


What Might Have Been Could Be Again

by Emma_Trevelyan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, CW: Death, CW: Medical, Dom/sub, First Time, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Missed Connections, Pining, Post-Canon, Smut, female oc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21516406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_Trevelyan/pseuds/Emma_Trevelyan
Summary: 'Tanaka didn’t get a chance to answer. The bell over the door announced a new customer--someone who took up the entire doorway. Daichi was convinced that, had he been standing, he’d have fainted dead away. He must have been imagining it… but that long, chestnut hair, those warm, calf-brown eyes, and that broad figure… he was unmistakable.It was Asahi.'Years after losing touch forever, Daichi returns to Miyagi, getting a second chance to reconnect with Asahi. Why did he disappear? Why didn't he ever call Daichi? Can they scale the tall walls Asahi seems to have built around himself?And are they still close enough to rekindle what could have been the love of Daichi's life?
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 17
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic deals with strong themes of medical procedures and death--specifically parental death. If that's something that triggers you, I appreciate your clicks, but this fic may not be for you. Proceed at your own risk and please take care of yourself!

It had been nearly four months since he’d made the move back to Miyagi, and to Daichi it still didn’t feel like home. Maybe it was the small apartment he lived in instead of his childhood room; maybe it was the fact that his old house had been bought when his parents moved to Seoul, and a whole new family lived in a place that meant so much to him. Or maybe it was just the fact that none of his friends lived in the area anymore. Suga’s work had long taken him out of the country, and Kiyoko had her small practice in Hokkaido. His college friends were all sort of scattered to the four winds, doing the amazing things he knew they could do. He was proud of them, and he knew they were proud of him. But he was still alone. 

The only person he could never pin down was Asahi--his one regret. It had started off so well. They’d roomed together, they’d been on the same team in college, they’d even gone on a few dates… but suddenly, about halfway through their third year, Asahi had disappeared. No note, no word. Nothing. No one knew what happened or where he’d gone. It had been five years, and even with all his work, Daichi was still achingly curious. 

He found himself trudging home after a long night at the office poring over manuscripts, staring longingly at a small bar. It was dimly lit--even from the outside--but in a cozy sort of way. He couldn’t hear the pounding of guitar music, or the raucous laughter of rowdy patrons… it seemed the perfect place to get away from his apartment for the night. He’d spent the past 120 days going from home to work to home again in fairly regular patterns, and it caused an itch to develop somewhere behind his ribcage. He needed to get out--to socialize and see other people and different walls and maybe enjoy his Sapporo somewhere other than under his kotatsu for a change. 

He didn’t remember this bar being there before he left home. It was probably fairly new--if it had been around, it would have likely been a part of the great Daichi’s 20th Birthday Pub Crawl that Suga took him on. It hadn’t felt right, though. It felt like someone was missing. They’d always had plans for their 20th, and they changed on a month-to-month basis, but one thing they’d always had in common was they’d been  _ together _ . 

It had been like this for the past four months; Daichi assumed it was a combination of the location and his perpetual single-status that drove him to think about Asahi a lot lately. It was just something that he’d left unfinished, and it bothered him. So he decided to take a chance--he shouldered his way through the door and into the small bar. The atmosphere inside was as cozy, warm, and intimate as the outside hinted at. The actual bar itself dominated the center of the room, surrounded by comfy-looking stools. Booths and tables fanned out in a horseshoe pattern from the central point, and a lowered section before a stage hinted at the possibilities of concerts or shows. The soft lighting was provided by a huge modern-looking sculpture hanging from the ceiling. After a moment of gaping at it, Daichi realized it was a chandelier. 

There was only one other person sitting at the bar--a guy with a trendy undercut, broad shoulders, and a boisterous laugh. He looked… familiar. Daichi tried to brush it off, sliding into one of the stools, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen this guy before. It bothered him, and probably would have continued to bother him, until the guy’s girlfriend--Daichi had to assume, given the soft, affectionate kisses she was pressing to his nose and forehead--had to leave, and Daichi caught a decent view of the guy’s face. 

“ _ Tanaka?”  _

The guy perked up, and sure enough, it was Tanaka. He’d definitely changed--he was taller, broader, and more muscular, but his features were definitely softer. That might have had something to do with the tuft of slightly-wavy hair on top of his head. It was unruly and… holy shit, it was  _ blue. _

“Daichi-san!” Tanaka exclaimed, scooting down a stool or two to sit next to him. “Shit, I didn’t know you were in town!” 

“Jesus, Tanaka, how’ve you been?” Daichi asked, feeling tension he hadn’t been aware of oozing out of his shoulders. “Still working at the family restaurant?” 

“Please, I’m running it these days,” Tanaka replied, puffing up with pride. “Dad’s not as young as he used to be, and Mom made him retire for his blood pressure. Saeko and I co-run the place.” 

“Please tell me she’s on books,” Daichi teased. 

“I resent that,” Tanaka said, punching Daichi in the arm. “I am a perfectly capable business man… but yes, Saeko is on books. Especially while she’s pregnant. She’s banned from the kitchen.” 

“Wait, back up… Saeko is pregnant!? When did this happen? I didn’t even realize she was with anyone.” 

“Dude, you wouldn’t have believed me if I told you,” Tanaka laughed. “But she’s officially an Ukai now.” 

“Wait as in…” 

“Yep, our old coach. Who is  _ still _ coaching at Karasuno, last I checked. ‘Only till the Nekoma match’ my ass.” 

“Wow,” Daichi said, “how things change, right?” 

“Definitely. Let me buy you a drink. You look tragically without, at the moment.” 

Since being transferred out of Osaka, Daichi had forgotten what it was like to catch up over beers with a friend. Tanaka had always had a gift for putting people instantly at ease, and Daichi had missed it. In a flash, he was 17 again, wearing a track jacket instead of a suit, surrounded by friends and family instead of facing down an empty apartment, 

“So what brings you back home?” Tanaka asked. “Business?” 

“Sort of,” Daichi answered. “A few of the authors under me work out of our Sendai division, so I’ve been transferred, for the time being.” 

“Oh yeah? How long are you staying?” Tanaka ran his fingertips around the rim of his beer glass. His stature was suddenly stiff and guarded. 

“Indefinitely, I guess. I moved here, and I’m staying until they move me again.” 

Something desperate and almost fearful flickered in Tanaka’s eyes before they became very suddenly shuttered. He sat a little straighter, and his hands gripped his glass a little tighter. In a flash, his easy smiles were more forced, and it set Daichi’s teeth on edge. 

“Wow… guess I lost the bet,” Tanaka murmured. His good-natured smile was all but gone, and he scowled at the bottom of his glass. 

“Bet?” 

“We had a pool going to see what would drag you out of Osaka,” he clarified. “After your parents moved to Korea, we assumed absolutely nothing. And yet, here you are.” 

“I didn’t exactly pick Sendai,” Daichi said. “They assigned it to me. I didn’t have a choice.” 

“So you’re telling me… it’s a coincidence? You’re really back because of work?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I don’t know… old memories? Old  _ friends, _ maybe?” Tanaka gave him a look out the corner of his eyes. 

Daichi swallowed hard; “I don’t… know what you’re talking about.” But he did. He knew what Tanaka was obliquely referring to, and it made the inside of his throat seize. He hated himself for it--it was such a long time ago, and he was still so clearly hurt by the proceedings.

“Just checking.” Tanaka continued to stare at the bottom of his beer glass. “You just never know, these days.”

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” Daichi asked.

“No, not at all,” Tanaka answered, but Daichi didn’t believe him. “It’s just… it’s been a little rough around here lately. That’s all. But hey, man, that isn’t your fault!” 

Daichi missed the easy-going atmosphere from earlier, because all at once, they were adults again. Things were already uncomfortable given the years and miles between them, but this was something he’d feared without realizing it… it was like he wasn’t wanted anymore. 

“Look, man,” Tanaka said, scratching at the back of his neck in an achingly familiar gesture. It made Daichi’s heart ache to see. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean anything by it. It just surprised me, is all. Listen, I have to be getting back soon, but when’s your next day off?”

“Sunday,” Daichi answered, his throat suddenly dry. “Why?” 

“Come to the restaurant for lunch,” Tanaka said. “We still have some catching up to do, yeah?” 

~~~

Tanaka had been infuriatingly cryptic, leaving Daichi with little choice but to just follow instructions. He followed the familiar route to the small ramen shop Tanaka’s family owned; he’d been there enough as a teenager to navigate there with his eyes closed. It was almost nostalgic, in a way. Tanaka’s great grandfather had opened the place way back after the war ended, and the smell of pork and soy had sort of seeped into the wood of the place. It smelled warm and inviting, and for the first time since coming back, he didn’t feel out of place. 

Tanaka looked infuriatingly at home behind the counter, with his apron, rolled t-shirt, and bandana (was that a ramen shop owner’s uniform?). It was a lull--he’d specifically asked Daichi to come in one of his off-hours--and he was chatting up a pretty (if muscular) girl at the counter. Daichi cocked his eyebrow--she was definitely the girlfriend from the night before. She was  _ way _ out of Tanaka’s league and not exactly what Daichi had always pictured Tanaka’s type to be, but then a lot had changed since high school. 

“Daichi-san!” Tanaka exclaimed, drawing him into the biggest, warmest hug in the history of hugs. “Glad you came!” 

“You invited me,” Daichi replied, groaning a bit when he felt his ribs pop. Seriously, when did Tanaka get so strong? “Please, I need to breathe! I’m not as young as I used to be.” 

“Oh my God, you big baby, you are a year older than me!” Tanaka teased, but he did set Daichi down. “Sorry, though… Alyx keeps telling me I don’t know my own strength.” 

“You’re the world’s strongest, babe,” the girl at the counter--Alyx--deadpanned. She shot a smirk over her shoulder, her green bangs falling in her eyes. So  _ she _ was the influence behind Tanaka’s denim-colored undercut. “Seriously, though, people need to breathe, doll.” 

“Vicious rumors,” Tanaka countered, popping open a beer bottle and setting it on the counter. “Take a seat, Daichi-san. Shoyu still your favorite?” 

“Yeah,” Daichi answered, taking a swig from the drink. It wasn’t his usual, but it would do in a pinch… especially with the odd tension in the air. “Can’t believe you remembered.” 

“Please,” Tanaka said as he slipped into the familiar process of preparing his ingredients. “I never forget an order as consistent as yours. It’ll just be a minute, so make yourself at home.” 

Daichi turned towards Alyx, who was watching Tanaka quietly. He normally didn’t mind long silences, but something about her demeanor was a little cold… maybe even standoffish. 

“So… Alyx,” Daichi said, trying to break the tension. 

“That’s me,” Alyx said, not looking at him. 

“That’s… an interesting name. Where are you from?” 

“North Carolina,” she answered tersely. 

“Oh… what brings you to Japan?” 

“The burning desire to be anywhere other than North Carolina.” 

Tanaka snorted, which told Daichi it probably wasn’t a hot-button issue. He still felt awkward, though… like he was being scrutinized. 

“Didn’t like North Carolina?” 

“Oh, I loved North Carolina. Well, parts of it. Especially the food, if I’m being honest. And Durham. But see, the problem is my parents live there.” 

“Ah,” Daichi said, feeling a touch awkward and unsure how to respond. 

Luckily, Tanaka’s phone going off saved them from having to continue the bizarre line of questioning. A deep crease appeared between Tanaka’s eyebrows, which just made Daichi’s anxious energy jump again. 

“Er… Daichi-san, there’s… um… there’s something I have to tell you.” 

Daichi tried not to grip the beer bottle too hard; “Yeah? Is it a bad something?” 

“Well… I guess it depends on your definition of ‘bad,’ but I wouldn’t say bad, per se…” Tanaka had always been one to ramble when he didn’t know what to say, and it seemed the habit hadn’t changed. 

“Catch a wave, babe, you’re drifting,” Alyx said. “It’s not a bad thing. I wouldn’t want him coming in here unaware.”

“‘Him?’” Daichi asked, his voice shockingly even despite his heart jumping into his throat. “Who… who’s ‘him.’” 

Tanaka didn’t get a chance to answer. The bell over the door announced a new customer--someone who took up the entire doorway. Daichi was convinced that, had he been standing, he’d have fainted dead away. He must have been imagining it… but that long, chestnut hair, those warm, calf-brown eyes, and that broad figure… he was unmistakable. 

It was Asahi.


	2. Chapter 2

The last time Daichi had seen Asahi had been the end of a perfectly normal Saturday practice in their third year of college. He’d had his hair--still damp from the shower--thrown into a sloppy ponytail that had dripped water onto the back of his white t-shirt. He’d been laughing, and Daichi teased him for his five o'clock shadow, because seriously, was he actually a 30-year-old man? Their teammates teased them about getting a room, and Daichi had responded that they already had a room--they just weren’t in it. Asahi had turned the most precious shade of pink at that, but once Daichi had taken his hand and give his fingers a little squeeze, the shy little smile that he loved so much bloomed on Asahi’s face. Daichi had had something to take care of--it had seemed so important at the time, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what the hell it was--and promised Asahi he would meet him in the room. Asahi had pressed three soft kisses to Daichi’s face--one to his forehead, one to his nose, and one to his mouth--and said goodbye. 

Daichi would never forget that moment, because it was the last they would ever share. When he had finally gotten back to his dorm, Asahi was nowhere to be found. He never came back to the room. By Thursday, his bed was stripped and his stuff was gone. On Friday, their coach had a conversation with their setter about syncing up with one of the other wing spikers to replace the one they lost. After that, no one really talked about him and no one knew what had happened. He was just… gone. 

That had been five years ago. It had been right on the cusp of their blossoming relationship--they hadn’t even been on a proper date yet--and it had always been one of Daichi’s greatest regrets. Now here he was, a little taller, a little broader, dressed a bit better… but it was unmistakably Asahi. Daichi wanted to hate him. He wanted to be pissed. He wanted to scream and cry and ask where the  _ fuck _ he had been for the past five years, but he couldn’t. He was so beautiful, his smile was so easy, and the set of his shoulders was so sure… he had a burn scar on his right hand and a silver ring on his thumb… he still wore his hair long, and there was a shadow of scruff along his jaw, but everything else was so different.  _ He _ was different… 

The man that was supposedly Asahi shot Daichi a crooked smile that barely reached his eyes; “Hey, Daichi. Been a while.” 

_ Been a while?  _ It had been half a decade! If Daichi wasn’t so shocked he’d have punched Asahi in the face for that comment. Part of him was so  _ mad _ . He was mad when he watched Asahi saunter up to Alyx, go through some bizarre and elaborate handshake that belonged to 13-year-old boys, and sweep her into a gentle hug. He was mad when he sank into the stool next to Alyx and took the proffered beer with such ease. He settled into such an easy rapport with her that Daichi felt a little bitter… maybe even a little left out. He thought he and Asahi were close… 

“So what brings you back to our neck of the woods?” Asahi asked nonchalantly, taking a long draw from his beer.

Daichi felt like he was in some bizarre mirror universe. He’d never seen Asahi like this before… especially not with Alyx draped over him possessively, eyeing Daichi like she wanted him to spontaneously combust. 

Daichi cleared his suddenly-dry throat; “How… how long have you been back?” 

Asahi ran his finger over the neck of his bottle; “A while.”

“How long’s a while?” 

“It’s not that important,” Asahi answered. “Is it?” 

“It’s fucking important to me,” Daichi snapped, perhaps a bit too harshly, judging by the way Asahi shrank from him. 

“Hey, back off, Sawamura,” Alyx snarled. 

“No, Alyx, it’s fine,” Asahi said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I sort of deserved that.” 

“No you didn’t! Daichi is the one--” 

“Let it go, Alyx,” Asahi said sharply, a dark warning in his voice. 

Now Daichi was curious. He wanted to know exactly what Alyx thought he did, and why said action warranted such venom. Whoever Alyx was to Asahi--beyond just Tanaka’s girlfriend--she obviously respected Asahi enough to listen to him, even if she continued to stare at Daichi like she was measuring him for a body bag. 

The conversation didn’t flow at all. Whatever rapport Asahi and Daichi might have had, it was long gone. Daichi tried to talk about his work at the publishing firm: the middle-aged stay-at-home-mom who wrote the worst novel he’d ever had the displeasure of reading; the twenty-something precious  _ artiste _ who Twitter stalked Daichi and his kouhai until the author’s agent had to be called; his time in the ‘slush pile’ trenches… 

One thing Asahi had always been good at was listening. He did listen to Daichi intently, laughing when appropriate, prompting him with the occasional question or clarification. Eventually, Asahi’s relaxed vibe settled them into a rhythm that almost resembled an actual conversation. He wasn’t having that heart-breaking easiness with Alyx that made sick jealousy curl in Daichi’s stomach, so that was something. 

Problem was, Daichi was the one doing all the actual talking; sure, Asahi was saying words, but he wasn’t  _ talking. _ Daichi knew nothing about his life--he didn’t know what he was doing for work, where he was staying, if he ever finished school… if he was seeing anyone. Before these realizations could hit Daichi and force him to act, Asahi was saying his good-byes and leaving the shop… and leaving Daichi. Again. 

Daichi followed Asahi out of the ramen shop; he could feel Alyx’s eyes burning into his back, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t let Asahi walk away from him. Not again. Thankfully, he hadn’t gone far. If Daichi didn’t know better, he’d say Asahi was waiting for him, but maybe that was wishful thinking. But then Asahi turned that borderline-melancholy smile on him, and Daichi felt all doubt melt away. He’d always been gorgeous, but now he was downright beautiful. Daichi felt at a very sudden loss of words. 

“It’s… it’s so good to see you,” he said, running his hands through his hair again. It was probably hopelessly mussed from his constant fussing. “You… you look good.” 

Asahi chuckled under his breath, holding his arms out; “C’mere.” 

Daichi had missed Asahi’s hugs so much, and he was thankful to realize not much had changed. He’d certainly grown a bit, but Asahi had too, and somehow Daichi still fit perfectly in his arms. He buried his face in Asahi’s jacket, taking in his smell. It still had that warm quality he’d always had, but it had changed. His aftershave was a little more subtle--a touch more expensive, probably--and his jacket had the distinct tang of stale alcohol and cigarettes. There was also a new smell… like burnt metal, maybe? Daichi tried to sear it into his memory, so that when Asahi disappeared again, he would at least have this. 

“I missed you,” Asahi whispered, holding Daichi a little tighter. It rumbled deep in his chest, and his fingers were gently brushing along the shorter part of Daichi’s hair. A delicate shiver ran down Daichi’s spine at the sensation. “I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too,” Daichi murmured, pressing his face into the broad chest in front of him. “God, it’s been so long.” 

“I know… I’m sorry.” 

Daichi wanted to punch him… tell him to stop apologizing, because then it would be just like old times, but it wouldn’t be. Daichi wanted-- _ demanded _ \--an explanation; “What happened, Asahi? You just… you just disappeared. I came back to the room one day and everything was just gone…” 

Asahi pulled away from their hug, his eyes darting away. He rubbed at the back of his neck like he used to, but there was something about the set of his jaw that set Daichi on edge; “It’s just… college wasn’t for me, that’s all. I needed a change.” 

Daichi felt a painful fist close around his heart; “But… you didn’t call. You didn’t text… nothing. You just fell off the face of the Earth and… and left me.” 

Asahi sighed; “I know. It was a shitty thing to do, and I don’t… I don’t like talking about it. Things are complicated for me, Daichi.” 

“Complicated how?” 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Asahi answered. “Maybe I will someday, but not now.” 

Daichi frowned. He wanted to say he understood and that everything was fine and they could just start over, but he couldn’t. He didn’t do well not knowing things, and this  _ bugged _ him in ways he wasn’t totally prepared to examine. One thing that bothered him more than anything, though, was that he had to say good-bye. 

“Alright, we won’t talk about it,” Daichi said reluctantly. “On the condition you get coffee with me sometime.”


	3. Chapter 3

Daichi had come to work extremely early that morning--the four small walls of his apartment felt like they were closing in around him, and it made him anxious like no one’s business. The problem was he’d managed to finish all his work before his long afternoon stretch, and idle time gave him time to think. He toyed with his phone, locking and unlocking the screen, flipping it over in his hands, and navigating to his contacts over and over. He knew who he could call. He knew who he could talk to. 

And he was willing to risk his wrath for his advice. 

After two rings, Suga answered in heavily accented English; “ _ Someone better be dead. _ ” 

“Suga?” 

“Daichi?” Suga asked, reverting back to Japanese. “Daichi, do you have any idea what time it is here?” 

“It’s late there, I’m sorry,” Daichi said. “I didn’t mean to wake you, but I just… I need to talk to someone.” 

“It’s alright,” Suga said around a massive yawn. “Sacchan and I have been up all night. Ami brought home a nasty bug from daycare.”

“Why did you answer, then?” 

“I’ve been working on a huge case. I’m waiting to hear back about an autopsy report. What’s up? You never call during the work day.” 

Daichi bit his lip. He’d kept Suga at a distance about his feelings and Asahi’s disappearance, but he knew enough. And Suga had a gift for granting perspective… sometimes. 

“Suga, I ran into Asahi yesterday.” 

There was a long pause before Suga gave a nervous laugh. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting that.” 

“Suga I’m serious.” 

“I know, Daichi, I’m sorry,” Suga said. “Alright, so you must be back in Miyagi. Looks like I lost the bet.” 

“You know, Tanaka said the same thing,” Daichi grumbled. “I don’t like that you lot were betting on whether or not I’d come home.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” Suga laughed. “Alright, you ran into Asahi. And… what happened?” 

“We talked, Tanaka’s girlfriend tried to set me on fire with her mind--”

“Oh, yeah, Alyx is a bit intense that way.” 

“And then I asked him out. On a date.” 

“A date?” 

“Well… coffee,” Daichi said. “So not really a… wait.” 

“Daichi?” 

“How did you know I’d come back to Miyagi?” Daichi asked. “I didn’t say I was back in Miyagi and… you knew, didn’t you?” 

Suga sighed; “Yeah, I knew. I ran into him a little after graduation before the big move.” 

“You knew,” Daichi said again. “You knew and you didn’t tell me.” 

“Daichi--”

“How did everyone know, except me? Why am I the  _ only one _ who didn’t know Asahi was home?” 

“Daichi, listen,” Suga tried to interrupt. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Suga? How could you  _ know _ what I was going through and not tell me?” 

“Look, Daichi, it’s complicated,” Suga said. “For the record, I didn’t approve of him not telling you where he was or what was happening. But… he’s been going through some shit lately.” 

Daichi was suddenly worried; “What kind of shit?” 

“That’s… not really for me to say. It’s personal, and if you two want to reconnect, then he has to tell you,” Suga said. Daichi could practically hear him run his fingers through his hair. “But--and keep in mind, this is  _ me _ we’re talking about here--cut him some slack, alright? He has it hard enough.” 

Daichi wanted to press--he wanted to know what was going on. Clearly Tanaka knew, and Suga obviously knew something, and Daichi wanted to be in the loop. But before he could say anything, he was interrupted by a tiny voice in the background. 

“ _ Daddy?”  _ It was Ami, Suga and Tendou’s daughter. 

“Hold on a second, Daichi,” Suga murmured before reverting back to English. “ _ What is it, angel baby?”  _

_ “Daddy, I had a bad dream. Can I sleep with you and Oto-san?”  _

“She calls Tendou ‘Oto-san?’” Daichi asked, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “That’s so sweet.” 

“It turns Sacchan into a pile of goo, so I adore and encourage it,” Suga laughed. There was the sound of sheets rustling and a soft sigh. “I think her fever is finally going down, thank God.” 

“You sound like you have your hands full, so I’ll let you go,” Daichi said, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Hey, what are ex-wives for,” Suga teased. “Call me later--preferably at a reasonable time--and tell me how coffee goes. I want to see if I can win the other bet!” 

“What other bet?” Daichi asked. 

“Bye, Daichi.” 

“Suga? Suga, what other bet?” The tell-tale beep of the call ending was his only answer. He grumbled and dragged his hand over his face before glowering at the framed photo on his desk. 

Suga had it taken when he, Tendou and Ami had gone up to New York for Christmas. Ami had just turned one. It was their first Christmas together as a family, and she was already ridiculously attached to Suga, by the looks of the death-grip she had around his neck. The three of them looked deliriously happy. It felt childish to think, but it wasn’t fair. Daichi had always wanted that life--spouse, kids, career, domestic bliss--and yet, he wasn’t even close to that.

He’d dated a bit after Asahi had left, and when that failed to fill the emptiness, he’d turned to casual sex. He got a bit of a reputation for it, but he’d been looking for any kind of contact--any kind of connection--to fill the void Asahi had left. Now, with Asahi back in his life and everyone seeming to be in the loop except him, that void was back. It had a sharper edge, and was more distinct, but it was there. 

And it hurt more than he remembered.

~~~

Normally, Daichi wasn’t out of the office before 7:00, but his spurt of anxious energy had left him with literally nothing to do for the remainder of the day, so he found himself wandering his old neighborhood. He checked his watch and considered swinging by the old gym to check out the new team, maybe say hello to Ukai… assuming he was there. 

The exterior to Sakanoshita was both familiar and not. The poster declaring Karasuno would take to the national skies yet again was eerily similar to the one when he was in high school, but the players in the photo were decidedly not Hinata and Kageyama. They would have long graduated by now, anyway. The poster of Nishinoya ( _ Karasuno graduate and Olympic gold medalist!) _ was definitely new, but the smell of Chinese pork buns brought him back to his teenage years like a slap to the face. He remembered being 17 and loitering outside these very doors, either with his team or just Asahi and Suga. They were fond, bittersweet memories, tinged with a combination of his near-decade of pining and sour hindsight. 

He decided to take a peek inside for old time’s sake. But when he saw who was working behind the counter, he felt like he could be knocked over with a feather. Asahi was bagging up a high school girl’s purchases, politely trying to wave off her obvious advances (oh, how the times had changed). Under the apron, he was in a soft maroon sweater. Daichi remembered buying him that sweater for their last Christmas before Asahi had disappeared, and his throat felt like it might close up. 

When the group of girls finally left, Asahi and Daichi made eye contact. Asahi responded with that soft, sheepish smile that would likely never change, and Daichi found it incredibly difficult to stay mad at him. 

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Daichi said dumbly. 

“It’s only a shift or two a week,” Asahi replied. “Ukai is helping me out because of… well, my situation.” 

There it was again--that weirdly cryptic evasiveness he’d displayed at the ramen shop. Hell, everyone seemed to be strangely cryptic and evasive lately, and damn it, he wanted answers! 

“What’s your situation?” Daichi asked bluntly. “Maybe I can help.” 

“It’s sort of personal, Daichi,” Asahi said, rubbing at a new burn on his forearm. Daichi wondered where he kept getting these burns. 

“Personal… Asahi, even if we hadn’t  _ dated _ , we’ve still known each other for ten years! If you can’t share with me, who can you share with?” 

Asahi pursed his lips, not making eye contact for a moment, before shrugging; “It’s not that I can’t tell you… it’s… I don’t want to discuss this at work is all.” 

“Oh.” Daichi suddenly felt a bit stupid. 

“But how about this… you offered to take me to coffee yesterday. I have to work until real late tonight, but tomorrow I can get off around 7:30. Is that alright by you?” 

“Um,” Daichi said, feeling a bit shaken by the sudden turn their conversation took, “sure. I mean, yeah. That sounds great. I’ll meet you… where can I meet you?” 

“I know this great cafe. Best lattes in the city.”

Daichi quirked his eyebrow, feeling the starts of a smirk on his lips; “Oh? Are you a  _ latte _ guy now?” 

“Daichi, I’m trying to be serious here!” Asahi exclaimed, flailing his hands in an achingly familiar gesture. 

Suddenly, surrounded by the smells and settings of their teenage years, back before all this happened, with their dynamic temporarily restored… Daichi felt warm inside. He felt like maybe the past few years hadn’t happened, and that he and Asahi could legitimately start over. 

And it would start with the best lattes in the city, apparently. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that the jobs no longer match canon even remotely. I'm sorry 
> 
> メリークリスマス！


	4. Chapter 4

“You do realize I’m 14 hours behind you, Daichi,” Suga said dryly, the rapid tap of keys a constant background noise as he did his work. “And I recommend that sweater I got you for your birthday last year. The cream colored one.”

“The sleeves are too short,” Daichi countered, frowning at his clothing choices. Most of his stuff was either workout gear, suits for work, or extremely casual t-shirts and tattered jeans. He didn’t have much in the way of a social or dating life, so he didn’t have a wardrobe for casual encounters and dates. “I have to roll the sleeves up.” 

“Um, have you seen your forearms, Daichi? That was an intentional choice on my part,” Suga said with a laugh. “Do that sweater and like, some dark jeans. Roll the sleeves; work the hot dad aesthetic. It’s always been a good look for you.” 

“Are you saying I’m old?” 

“I’m saying you may be single and childless, but you’ve been a dorky dad since you were 15 and you can fight me.” Suga paused, murmuring something in English (probably to the lab assistant he’d talked about) before returning to the conversation. “So what are you two crazy kids up to tonight? Remind me of what it’s like to be young!” 

“Suga, you are literally six months older than me.” 

“Oh right; it’s the sleep deprivation that’s making me feel this way. Pitfalls of kids, I guess,” Suga laughed. “But tell me anyway. Remind me what it’s like to be dating the love of your life.” 

“It feels an awful lot like the flu,” Daichi deadpanned. He felt nervous with anticipation and sick with anxiety. “But we’re really just going to coffee to catch up on each other a bit.” 

“So you don’t want to start dating him again,” Suga said. 

“I have no idea,” Daichi replied, running his hand over his face. 

“Do you still love him?” 

“Of course I do.” Daichi couldn’t fight the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He couldn’t get over how much Asahi had changed--how much bigger he was, his new easy-going air, and his newfound sense of fashion… but also the deep, dark circles under his eyes and the sense that he was definitely hiding something. Something big. “I’m just not so sure if he still loves me, or if he loved me in the first place.”

Daichi waited for Suga’s inevitable teasing, but he went strangely quiet. So quiet, in fact, Daichi was worried he’d lost the connection until he heard Suga take a deep breath; “Daichi, he still loves you. Anyone who ever fell in love with you never stopped. Trust me.” 

“Suga…” 

“I have to get going here pretty soon, and so do you, if you don’t want to be late, so I’ll give you some advice.” There was another long pause before Suga took a strangely somber breath. “Stop overthinking this. It really wasn’t your fault, or anything you did or didn’t do. He’ll tell you when he’s ready, so just… try to have a good time, alright?” 

~~~

He regretted being so early. The longer Daichi sat at the small outdoor table at the cafe Asahi suggested, the more time his brain had to supply him with worst-case scenarios. Asahi wasn’t the type to stand him up--if he had to cancel he would have called--but he was also so rarely late to anything. Asahi’s anxiety often led to him being 15 minutes early to literally everything, so the fact that Daichi had been sitting for half an hour with no sign of him was concerning, to say the least. 

He was so caught up in his own apprehensive death spiral, he almost missed Asahi jogging around the corner. He met Daichi’s gaze and shot him a shy, apologetic smile. He looked gorgeous in his fitted henley and dark jeans, and when he got closer, Daichi could see a necklace resting against the hollow of Asahi’s throat. It was a simple sun pendant on a leather cord; Daichi had gotten it for him for his 18th birthday. It was simple but sentimental, and Daichi could feel an unidentifiable (but not altogether unpleasant) emotion threaten to close his throat. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Asahi said, breathing like he’d run without warming up. “I was meeting with my agent and it went over.” 

Daichi chose to ignore the fact that Asahi had an agent for some reason; “That’s alright. I’m just glad you came.” 

Asahi’s expression crumbled in a way that was almost heartbreaking; “Daichi, why wouldn’t I come? I invited you out, and… I wanted to see you.” 

Daichi wanted to respond--maybe tell Asahi how  _ good _ he looked, because damn, he looked good… like he’d dressed for an actual date--but sadly, the waitress interrupted them. 

“Hey, Azumane!” The girl was a little younger than them--maybe college age--and really cute. She gave him the brightest, sweetest smile… not just a customer service smile, either. Not by any stretch of the imagination. “Here with someone today?” 

“Hey, Min-chan,” Asahi responded. “Yeah, this is… Daichi. We went to school together.” 

Min-chan gave Daichi a polite nod, but her attention was squarely on the object of her affection; “The usual today?” 

“Maybe hold the extra shot; it’s after 6:00, after all,” Asahi said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Thanks, Min-chan.” 

The waitress sauntered back into the cafe to fill their order, more sway to her hips than strictly necessary. Daichi smirked; “She  _ likes _ you.” 

“She’s a good kid,” Asahi responded, turning a precious shade of pink and averting his eyes. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with her that she apparently finds me attractive--” 

“Hey… stop that.” Daichi chanced reaching across the table to squeeze Asahi’s hand. There was a rough callus on the outside of his index finger, and Daichi couldn’t help but rub at it with his thumb. He’d always loved Asahi’s hands so much. “If there’s something wrong with her, then there’s something wrong with me…” 

Asahi averted his eyes, but didn’t move his hand. Daichi could see it twitch, like he maybe wanted to flip it over to lace their fingers together (and  _ oh _ how he wanted it) but he didn’t. Things were still just a little too fresh--too raw--for big gestures like that, but the point of contact was still nice. 

Min-chan bringing Asahi his coffee fractured the moment, but it still felt warmer than before. It was like Daichi was slowly coaxing a kicked dog out of the corner, and that shy smile and adorable blush was sort of like the first tentative laps at his fingertips. 

“You look really good, Dai,” Asahi said softly, running his fingertip along the rim of his cup. “I take it Suga got you that sweater? It seems like something he would pick.” 

“Are you suggesting I’m not fashionable?” Daichi teased. 

“Yes,” Asahi deadpanned. He and Daichi glared at each other for a full minute before they broke into tentative giggles. “It’s ok, Suga isn’t either. Remember the potato shirt?” 

“Oh, God, the potato shirt…” 

“Satori, of all people, begged him to get rid of it,” Asahi laughed. “I’m pretty sure he was ready to sneak it to my studio and throw it in the forge.” 

“Wait, ‘forge?’ ‘Studio?’ Please explain.” 

Asahi thumbed at one of the burns on his hands and Daichi started connecting dots; “I do a little sculpting. Mostly metal work. I have a small studio in the industrial district.” 

“Wait, is that what your agent is for?” Daichi asked, his eyes widening. He imagined Asahi glistening with sweat from the forge, backlit by the intense fire, and his mouth went a little dry. 

“Yeah, I sell a few pieces from time to time,” Asahi answered, grinning shyly. “It’s not nearly enough to pay the bills, but it does keep me sane, and it’s sort of nice to make money with my art. He’s negotiating a deal for the installation I’m working on for this swanky Tokyo restaurant. Should keep me in cup ramen for a few months.” 

“That’s really cool, Asahi,” Daichi said, smiling brilliantly. He’d been one of the few people who knew about Asahi’s artistic side and his desire to major in art back in college. He was inexplicably proud. “Looks like dangerous work, though.” 

“Hm?” Asahi tilted his head in askance before following Daichi’s gaze to his myriad burns and scars. “Oh, those? Yeah, I get them occasionally, but the majority of the damage is from one of my jobs.”

“Sakanoshita has changed a bit if you’re coming away from your shifts mangled.” 

“No, I do a bit of construction,” Asahi corrected. “The job sucks and the hours suck but it pays the bills.” 

“The fact that you can actually manage to finish pieces when you’re working two jobs--” 

“Three.” 

“ _ Three? _ ” 

“I manage a bar,” Asahi said. “ _ Akagane _ .” 

“Wait…  _ Akagane? _ ” Daichi’s eyes widened… it was the bar he’d walked into that night… Tanaka had been texting. “Asahi, I ran into Tanaka there.” 

“I know.” Asahi stared at his coffee, refusing to meet Daichi’s eyes. “I… I saw you come in. I didn’t have the courage to face you yet, so I hid in the office.” 

“Asahi--” 

“You look really good,” Asahi said, his whole face turning a brilliant red. “In a suit, I mean. I always knew you would, but you… you look good.” 

“Don’t think you can distract me with flattery, good sir,” Daichi retorted, trying to maintain his indignation, but he couldn’t stop his face flaming or his chest puffing up a bit. He worked hard to maintain his athletic physique… he was glad to know it paid off. 

“I’m sorry,” Asahi whispered, shrinking in on himself. Daichi had a feeling he wasn’t apologizing for the flattery, or even hiding in the office instead of coming out to say hi. 

“Asahi, what happened?” Daichi asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Where… where did you go? Was it something I did?” 

Asahi heaved a great sigh; “No, Daichi, you didn’t do anything.” 

“Then why?” His voice shook, and he could feel the hot prick of angry tears at the corners of his eyes. He’d been carrying this resentment for too long, and he wanted  _ answers _ , damn it! “Why did you… why did you leave? Why didn’t you  _ call? _ It might not be any of my business, but we were just getting started and--” 

“I know,” Asahi interjected. “I’m sorry, Daichi. You deserved so much better than that, but things got so crazy and complicated. I didn’t want to drag you into it.” 

“So that’s it, then? You’re just going to be evasive and cryptic about it forever?” Daichi was losing his cool, and he recognized that, but the dam had broken and every resentful thought he’d had for the past five years came pouring out without his permission. “You don’t think I deserve to know, that’s fine, but I’m allowed to be mad about this.” 

“I agree with you,” Asahi replied smoothly. “But you do deserve to know, because I don’t want to say goodbye to you tonight. I’ve been thinking about this, and… Daichi, I still love you. I don’t think I ever stopped.” 

Whatever he thought Asahi had been about to say, it was  _ not that _ . It took him a few tries before he could even respond; “So… you want to…”

“Start over. If you want to.” 

His words stopped Daichi cold. Part of him--the part that was 18 and confused and  _ missed  _ Asahi so much--screamed at him to just accept. It would be so easy to just date again, get to know each other again, and fall into that old pattern that used to make him so, so happy. But the part that was an adult--the part that had been hurt and abandoned--stopped him. He still didn’t know what was happening, or why Asahi left. He needed answers, because if the same thing happened again, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. It would destroy him. 

He sighed deeply; “Asahi, you have no idea how badly I want to say ‘yes’ right now. I’ve thought about this moment for a really long time, and… it’s always been you. I think no matter what happens here it will always be you.” 

Asahi stiffened, his hands shaking on his coffee cup; “But?” 

“But I  _ need _ answers, Asahi,” Daichi said. He worried on his lower lip with his teeth, trying to choose his words very carefully. “This can’t happen again, and I can’t commit to you one way or another until you’re honest with me!”

Asahi huffed a dark, humorless laugh; “Oh, trust me. This would never happen again.” 

Daichi hadn’t expected  _ that _ ; “What?” 

“It can’t happen again,” Asahi clarified. “It’s not like I have another parent.” 

“Wait,  _ what? _ ” 

Asahi sighed again, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He suddenly looked  _ so  _ tired; “Daichi, my mom is sick. She was diagnosed five years ago, and I’ve been spending the past five years taking care of her.”


	5. Chapter 5

When they were in their second year of high school, Daichi, Suga and Asahi would sometimes get together to study. Daichi had always been really surprised that Asahi wasn’t in the college prep courses--he was pretty sure Asahi could easily pull the best math grades out of all of them--but he never pried. Asahi had always just said college wasn’t in the cards for him, and Daichi respected that, even if Asahi was definitely smarter than he gave himself credit for. 

Daichi’s favorite place to study was always Asahi’s apartment. It was a cozy, compact little place, but Asahi’s dog and his mother were always welcoming presences. Atsuko-san was always sweet and silly; she and Suga were thick as thieves. She was so very clearly crazy about her son, lavishing him with affection and praise, but she was also really kind to Daichi. He always wondered if she could sense his feelings, or if perhaps he was more obvious than he thought. 

It baffled him that Atsuko-san was sick; she’d always been so unbreakable and strong. 

Daichi huffed into the phone; “Did you know?” 

After a long pause, Suga replied; “I knew she was sick, but I don’t know the extent. Asahi’s always been a little tight-lipped about it.” 

“Understandable, I guess,” Daichi said. “Apparently, it’s some unpronounceable brain tumor. At least four syllables.” 

“Yikes,” Suga hissed. “The more syllables, the worse it is, by cancer standards.” 

“God, I felt so stupid,” Daichi sighed, glowering at his socks. “I couldn’t even respond. What do you say to a guy who’s just spent the past five years watching his mother die?” 

“How do you know she’s dying?” 

“Asahi all but confirmed it,” Daichi replied, remembering the god-awful fake smile Asahi wore when he told Daichi the news. It didn’t touch his eyes and his lips had been so thin--Daichi recognized that smile. It was the one Asahi always wore when his world was falling apart and he was trying to convince everyone that it wasn’t. 

“Asahi actually said his mother is dying?” 

“Not in so many words, but… yeah. He’s not really talking about it, but I can’t blame him. If I found out my mom had cancer, I’d probably drop everything to fly out to Seoul right now.” 

“Have you seen Atsuko?” Suga asked. 

“No,” Daichi replied. “I haven’t even seen Asahi since we had coffee. He’s sort of disappeared on me.” 

“Well, he has like, what, three jobs? Maybe he’s busy.” 

“See, that would be what a reasonable person would think,” Daichi grumbled. “But I’m sort of in a ‘fool me once’ line of thinking at the moment.” 

“Why, Sawamura Daichi, are  _ you _ getting all bent out of shape about a  _ boy _ ?” Suga’s voice lilted up into a teasing register. “My, how the times have changed.” 

“I would like to remind you I’ve been a mess about this  _ boy _ since we were fifteen,” Daichi said. “I was just better about hiding it back then.” 

“That seems a little ass backwards,” Suga mumbled. There was a rustle of fabric in the background that suggested he was changing. “Have you considered texting him?” 

“A few times,” Daichi answered. “I don’t know, though… despite my crazies, he really is super busy. I don’t want to bother him.” 

Suga sighed; “Well, I’d love to help you through this circle of anxiety, Daichi, but I promised Satori and Ami that we’d go out to dinner.”

Daichi fought the curl of jealousy in his stomach; “You’ve been working on that big case, right? Is it solved?” 

“Not really, but I’ve been working so many late nights. I miss my husband and daughter, Dai.” 

“Aww, listen to you get all domestic,” Daichi teased, trying desperately to cover up the catch in his voice. “Who would have thought the day would come?” 

Apparently, he did a poor job of disguising his sudden swell of emotion; “Daichi, the day  _ will _ come for you. I promise. And I’d love to sit here and beat that idea into your head, but--” 

“Your family awaits,” Daichi interjected. “I know. I need to head out soon anyway, so don’t worry about me. I’ll bury myself in the slush pile, or something.” 

“Try not to obsess too hard, Daichi,” Suga sighed. “And text him. You’ll thank me, I promise.” 

His phone beeped and Suga was gone. Daichi was suddenly left with nothing but the sound of the coffee maker finishing up and his own thoughts. It had been nearly a week since he’d seen Asahi, and the small, paranoid part of his brain was telling him that it was happening again, but only this time, it was his fault. This time, Asahi had opened up to him and he reacted poorly, and now Asahi didn’t want anything to do with him. 

He turned his phone over and over in his hand, debating with himself, before he pulled up his text app. His thumb hovered over Asahi’s name for an embarrassingly long amount of time before he chickened out and scrolled to his text thread with Tanaka. After all, Asahi was busy, and didn’t need Daichi’s paranoid ramblings to interrupt his day. 

**_Me 07:35--_ ** _ Hey, you’re in contact with Asahi pretty regularly, right?  _

Daichi wasn’t expecting Tanaka to text him back--it was super early, after all--but less than a minute later, his phone buzzed. 

**_Tanaka 07:35--_ ** _ Yeah, why? _

**_Tanaka 07:35--_ ** _ Also, who texts someone at this ungodly hour? Not all of us are salary men, Daichi-san.  _

**_Me 07:36--_ ** _ You didn’t have to answer, you know.  _

**_Tanaka 07:37--_ ** _ Nah, it’s fine. Alyx gets me up and running in the mornings anyway, so I was up. What’s up with you and Asahi now? How’d coffee go?  _

**_Me 07:39--_ ** _ Fine. How’d you know about coffee? _

**_Tanaka 07:40--_ ** _ Asahi told me. He had a good time and I guess he wanted to gush a bit. He doesn’t have many people he can talk to.  _

Daichi bit his lip. He didn’t like to text on his commute, so his last chance to ask was fast approaching. Daichi wanted clarification on the whole ‘doesn’t have many people’ comment, because it looked like he was surrounded by people who loved him and would tear Daichi’s throat out with their teeth on Asahi’s behalf. Or maybe that was just Alyx. At least it sounded like Asahi was OK and he wasn’t fleeing the country, or something. He just didn’t want to sound like a hyper-paranoid, starry-eyed fourteen-year-old girl with her first crush, but it seemed there was no way to avoid that. 

**_Me 07:42--_ ** _ I just haven’t heard from him in a few days, I guess. Wanted to make sure everything was OK… well, that, and he hadn’t high-tailed it to France or something.  _

He shoved his phone into his briefcase, determined to get lost in his morning commute. He’d made the same trip every day (and learned the hard way it was a bad idea to use his phone during said trip) but he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. The train ride to his office was, as usual, pretty boring, and sadly the car was too crowded for him to pull the manuscript he’d been picking his way through. So he was left alone with his thoughts… again.

He was so grateful when he walked into his office and sat down at his desk; his assistant brought him his usual coffee and huge pile of messages. Daichi lived for the routine, and he refused to break it. Only after he checked his email at 9:15 did he bother checking his texts. 

**_Tanaka 07:45--_ ** _ Dude, you’re being ridiculous. You could just text him, or you could swing by my place around 8:30 tonight. I promise he’ll be there.  _

~~~

By the time Daichi finished his work for the day, he was running late, which was so grossly out of character, he figured they’d think he did it on purpose. He was one of the last editors to leave that night, and it made time to get to Tanaka’s place tight. He  _ could _ have called and rescheduled, but he had to see Asahi that night. He knew he was being silly, but he also knew that if he just saw Asahi, he would feel better. 

He didn’t have time to get back to his apartment and change to meet at Tanaka’s, so he went straight there from work. He felt overdressed, even though it wasn’t at all uncommon to spot men his age in suits at this hour. He knew why--he’d never seen Asahi when he was dressed for work. He’d only seen Asahi looking… well, stylish. He felt a bit self-conscious about it. 

About four or five blocks from the ramen restaurant, he actually spotted Tanaka. His face was red with exertion and he was tooling around on his phone. Daichi didn’t recognize the building he was leaning against--yet another new addition. 

Tanaka looked out the corner of his eyes and broke out into a massive grin; “Daichi-san! Fancy meeting you here!” 

Daichi narrowed his eyes; “I was on my way to your place. By your invite, no less. What’re you doing here?” 

“Waiting on Alyx and Asahi,” he answered. “They come here to work out and get their anger out; I mostly come to work on my pecs and my triceps.” 

“Ha ha,” Daichi deadpanned. “What is this place? And whose anger? Asahi’s anger?” 

“It’s a boxing gym,” Tanaka said solemnly and thumbed over his shoulder through the window. “And… well, you’d be surprised.” 

Daichi was shocked; last he checked, Asahi didn’t have an angry or violent bone in his body. Despite his size, the guy used to work himself into a respectable panic if someone even grabbed his arm. But the man Daichi saw through the window, deep in a difficult spar with Alyx, wasn’t Asahi. At least, it wasn’t the Asahi he’d grown up with. His muscles were bulging under his tight-fitting tank top; his face was twisted in a terrifying grimace; he looked like he was approaching Alyx with the intent to kill. She was keeping up with him just fine, but she was visibly struggling. It didn’t surprise Daichi at all--Asahi looked like he had about half a foot and an easy fifty pounds on her. 

In a swift, rough move, Asahi swung her into the ring’s ropes and dropped her to the floor, twisting her arm around her back. She scowled and tapped the floor; just like that, the intensity was gone and he was pulling her to her feet with a gentle, if sheepish, smile on his face. Alyx jabbed him in the ribs playfully before they made their way out of the ring for the next pair. 

“Terrifying, isn’t it?” 

Daichi jumped; he’d nearly forgotten Tanaka was there. 

“I hate it when they do that,” Tanaka continued, his voice low and dark. “Don’t get me wrong, Alyx can hold her own against him just fine--hell, she’s laid him out on his ass almost as many times as he has to her--but it still scares me. When he gets like that.” 

“I’ve never seen him like that before,” Daichi said, balling his hands into fists. 

“Neither had I, until all this went down,” Tanaka replied. “But… to be honest, I’m glad he has an outlet. Before we found this place, I thought he was going to implode. That, or die at the bottom of a bottle.” 

Daichi shivered at the implication; he had no idea, but it made sense when he thought about it. Working three jobs to stay afloat was rough enough, let alone caring for a sick parent on top of it. He felt terrible for feeling so indignant about Asahi’s silence; he deserved time to himself, and he didn’t deserve Daichi going behind his back to contrive a meeting if he didn’t want it. 

Before he could get too deep into his anxious spiral, Alyx stepped out of the gym, her green hair damp and swept away from her face with a clip; “Hey, babe, I-- oh. It’s you.” 

“Alyx, you remember Daichi, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” she grumbled. “Asahi’s in the shower. He’ll be out in a bit.” 

Daichi felt the weight of her scowl, and combined with her clipped answers and the weight of new information, he couldn’t take it anymore; “I’m sorry, but did I do something to offend you?” 

Alyx scoffed; “Really? Playing dumb now, hm?” 

“Excuse me?” Daichi felt a red-hot curl of rage threaten to take over. He hadn’t felt this mad in a really long time. 

“Alyx, babe, now’s not really the time,” Tanaka said. 

“No, Ryuu, I think now’s the perfect time,” Alyx snapped. “Look,  _ Sawamura _ , I don’t know who you think you are or what the  _ fuck _ you think you’re doing, but you should stay away from Asahi.” 

Daichi grit his teeth so hard, he actually thought he could hear them strain; “Why should I?  _ Asahi’s _ the one who asked me out, remember?” 

“He’s always been too nice for his own good,” Alyx grumbled. “It’s why he deserves better than you.” 

“Alyx, that’s a little harsh, isn’t it?” Tanaka asked, but he wasn’t making eye contact. 

“You know what’s fucking  _ harsh _ , babe? Abandoning someone you’re supposed to care about when their world is falling apart,” Alyx snapped. “I don’t know what kind of piece of shit does that, but he certainly doesn’t deserve someone as great as Asahi.” 

Daichi froze; “Wait… what?” 

“Don’t play dumb, asshole,” Alyx snapped, jabbing him in the chest with her finger. “You knew what he was going through, and you never… you never called him, or visited.  _ Nothing! _ You left him hanging and left us to pick up the pieces! And now you just come waltzing back like nothing happened, thinking you can just pick up where you left off?  _ Fuck _ that! Asahi may let you back in, but I won’t let you hurt him again!” 

Daichi rubbed at the spot she’d jabbed like he’d been burned; “He… he told you that?” 

“He didn’t have to,” Alyx said. “He was so broken up over you, Sawamura, and I won’t let it happen again!” 

Tanaka, on the other hand, gave Daichi a concerned look; “Alyx…” 

“So you might want to just do us all a favor and leave,” Alyx continued, clearly not hearing Tanaka. “Lose his number, forget he exists, and just… fucking leave!” 

“Alyx!” Tanaka exclaimed, grabbing her upper arm gently. 

“What!?” 

Tanaka gestured at Daichi with his chin; he was whiter than a sheet, his eyes were wide with shock, and he was still rubbing absently at the spot Alyx had poked. He felt like he was going to be sick. He was pretty sure Asahi hadn’t told them that, but  _ what if he had? _ Is that why he was avoiding Daichi? 

“Oh god,” Alyx said softly. “You had no idea, did you?” 

Daichi opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no sound came out. 

“Oh  _ god _ !” Alyx threw her arms around Daichi’s neck, pulling him into the tightest hug he’d ever received. Honestly, he didn’t mind it, even if she was cutting off his air a little bit. “Fuck, I’m a  _ jerk! _ ” 

“It’s--” 

“It’s  _ not _ ok!” Alyx interrupted. “I was a  _ bitch  _ and you didn’t deserve it!”

“Well, it’s all cleared up now,” Tanaka interjected. Daichi almost smiled--he’d always hated conflict, at least amongst loved ones. 

“It’s  _ not  _ cleared up!” Alyx said, spinning towards the gym door with fire in her eyes. 

“Babe, where are you going?” 

“I am going in there, and I am giving Asahi a piece of my mind!”


	6. Chapter 6

Daichi isn’t used to this. He isn’t used to being pinned in place by a heavy body while big hands force his back to arch, moving him how his partner wants him to move. He feels out of control. _He likes it_. He likes the feeling of calluses scraping along the curve of his waist, the scratch of stubble on his skin as his stomach is kissed, and the strength of strong fingers prying his thighs apart. 

Daichi stares fondly between his legs, running his hands through that long, soft ( _so_ soft) hair. Warm brown eyes sparkle up at him, a warm tongue flicks over his bare skin… a tease. The soft chuckle makes Daichi shiver in anticipation. He keens with want, tugging on the hair between his fingers. 

“Asahi,” Daichi whispers. “Asahi, _please_.” 

“I like when you beg me,” Asahi growls, a smirk pulling at his full lips. “Do it again.” 

“ _Please!”_

In lieu of an answer, Asahi hooks his fingers into Daichi’s boxers and pulls them over his thighs, freeing his painfully hard erection. It smacks lewdly against his stomach, red and begging for attention. Daichi wants it so bad, he’s practically gagging for it. Thankfully, Asahi has gotten so close, Daichi can feel his breath against his skin. Asahi steadies Daichi’s cock with a firm hand at the root before placing a chaste kiss against the head. He parts his lips, ready to take Daichi’s cock in his mouth…

Daichi’s alarm screamed at him from across the room, jolting him out of his beautiful dream. He threw his arm over his eyes, trying to decide if it was worth it to bury himself back in his blankets and hope for a continuation. He was rock hard in his sleep pants, and his soft sheets felt like sandpaper against his too-sensitive skin. He glowered at his alarm clock--9:30. He was supposed to meet Asahi at noon. Asahi wanted to spend the day with him, but he had some work to get done in the morning. According to him. 

Daichi reprimanded himself a bit--since Alyx had torn him a new one and raked him over the coals for his lie of omission, Asahi had given him absolutely no reason to believe he was lying. Better still, they’d been texting pretty much daily. Daichi got a lot of shit for it at work--if he wasn’t working on a manuscript or in a meeting, he was staring all gooey-eyed at his phone. His coworkers knew he was seeing someone, and he chose not to correct them when they asked about his new girl. 

Daichi rolled his body through a couple of stretches, working out a kink in his neck from sleeping on it wrong. He hissed when his sweatpants provided barely-there friction against his cock. He was so hard it was nearly painful, but he refused to masturbate to a dream about Asahi when he had to look the guy in the eye in a few hours. He wanted to try and take this whole thing with Asahi slowly, but given how _fucking_ attractive he was, the big shmoo was making it hard. 

Daichi buried himself in his normal morning routine--brush teeth, shave, make coffee, heat yesterday’s rice and cook omelette for breakfast. All that killed maybe twenty minutes or so. Daichi was ruthlessly efficient in the morning. He even put off getting dressed or putting in his contacts so he could agonize over an outfit later and kill more time. He pulled out his IPad, poured a second cup of coffee--a weekend luxury he never allowed himself on work days--and pulled up some work he was supposed to get done. He managed to answer a few emails and got about two pages into a manuscript he’d been working on before his attention span ran out and he found himself staring off into space. His coffee cooled on the table and his glasses slid down his face unchecked. He was too distracted. Too on edge. He needed to do _something_ , but he wasn’t sure what yet. 

He decided to take his chances and go for a run. It could go one of two ways--either his brain would be too active and he would run through every worst-case-scenario and then some, or it would go blessedly silent and it would be just him, the crisp fall air, and his music until it would be acceptable for him to leave. He didn’t have all the time in the world, just enough for a brisk run around the block, but it was better than pacing in his apartment. 

He fished out his running tights, his shorts, and his windbreaker, pulling a face when he realized how cold it was outside. It was barely November, and there was a hint of frost on the colorful leaves littering the ground. He did his stretches inside--he knew too well the dangers of stretching cold muscles--but he breathed a sigh of relief once his sneakers hit the pavement. The combination of the crisp, cool air, the mostly-empty sidewalk, and the familiar actions effectively cleared his head. He was no longer obsessing over everything that could possibly go wrong--he and Asahi had a good thing going. It was all so tentative, but now that the air had been cleared and there weren’t any more secrets, he could go back to his old self. 

It would be fine. 

Unfortunately, if his brain couldn’t focus on the worst case scenarios, it instead decided to obsess about Daichi’s dream. The too-accurate sensation of calloused palms ghosted over his inner thighs and he almost missed a step. It had just started to get good when his alarm had gone off that morning, and it wasn’t _fair_. Daichi had never gotten the opportunity to do anything of that nature with Asahi… assuming Asahi was interested in that. 

Daichi nearly tripped over his own feet thinking about the way Asahi would purr his name in that baritone timbre, the way those calf-brown eyes would look blown blacker than night… would Asahi prefer to top, like in his dream, or he would prefer to bottom? Daichi was open to either option, really. It had been a long-held fantasy of his to ride Asahi’s thick cock until he couldn’t take it anymore, but he also wanted to make Asahi come apart under his fingers and tongue, rubbing his prostate until he screamed… 

He felt an uncomfortable shifting in the front of his shorts, his cock stirring with interest at the supplied imagery. Daichi buried his red face in his hands, trying to bring himself back under control. But behind his eyelids, all he could see was Asahi’s beautiful face, his lips, his legs… Daichi turned down the nearest through-street and headed for his apartment. He would be back a little sooner than he’d originally wanted to, but he had something to take care of. 

Honestly, he should have known it would be a lost cause. He was so sensitive, the draft in his bathroom felt good. He didn’t really have time for a full bath, but a quick shower would probably suffice. He turned the water as hot as he could stand it, burning the shame away with his sweat. Even the mild pain did nothing to flag his near-painful erection. He slathered himself in soap as quickly as he could, scrubbing until his skin turned pink, before he hesitantly wrapped his hands around his cock. 

Normally, he would just go for it, but Asahi would be shyer about it… he’d experiment, moving his hand slowly to gauge Daichi’s reactions. He’d probably try what he liked, seeing if it worked on Daichi too… he’d thumb the slit ever so gently, squeezing to make a drop of precome leak out. He wouldn’t lick it just yet… he’d just watch it pool at Daichi’s slit, then use it to ease the slide of his hand. 

As Daichi’s breath quickened, he realized it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be enough. He gathered what remained of the soap on his body on his free hand and moved it to his opening. It was tight--it had been too long since he’d done this--but he was able to bully two fingers past his rim with some coercion. He liked to believe that once Asahi had the hang of it, he wouldn’t mind man-handling Daichi a bit. He would _want_ to push Daichi’s limits, see how much he could take, maybe hurt him a little… 

Daichi moaned, pushing his fingers as deep as they would go. It wasn’t enough, even as he matched the rhythm of his thrusts with the hand on his cock. He jerked up quickly, racing towards his own completion. When he threw his head back and closed his eyes, it was easy to picture those long fingers pressing in deep--too much, too fast, but _so good_ \--massaging over the spot inside Daichi that would make him see white. He keened, long and loud, as he lost the coherent fantasy and just focused on orgasm. 

“Asahi,” he whispered to himself, lost in the sound of the shower spray. “Please, Asahi.” 

It was so easy to picture his voice; _Come for me, Daichi_. 

He came so hard, he saw spots, but it wasn’t enough. Even as he stood panting under the red-hot spray, he knew… 

It couldn’t be enough. 

~~~

The warehouse district was kind of a seedy part of town, but something told Daichi that Asahi didn’t have to worry. The small foundry was surrounded on all sides by dingy bars, a small convenience store, and a few shops that were 100% yakuza fronts and Daichi would put money on that. He double checked the information Asahi gave him, and considered that maybe he had the wrong place, until he saw the little metal flower hammered to the door. Daichi rolled his eyes because only Asahi… 

The space was large and open, brightly lit by tall windows and bright overhead lights. It was also blisteringly hot and _loud_. It wasn’t just the run of the various machinery, or the ventilation system for the kiln, but it was also the music. It was turned up to the point of distortion just to be heard over the din. There was a drawing table with a complicated schematic of some kind in the corner. A pair of heavily-padded headphones sat in a place of prominence with a bright pink Post-It on them: 

_Daichi,_

_For ear protection. You’ll thank me later._

_Asahi_

Daichi slid them on and sighed with relief when everything because blissfully muffled. It gave him the opportunity to explore the foundry. He didn’t touch anything--half the equipment looked dangerous, and the other half was in use--but he did admire the long row of delicate flowers along the work table, all cast from various metals. They looked so _real_ , except for the metallic sheen to their petals. In an open space, a few pieces were being assembled, including what looked like a garden trellis. 

In the back of the room, near the forge, Asahi was hard at work hammering something against an anvil. His protective coveralls were bunched up around his waist, and his tank top was dingy from sweat and grime. He looked almost too cliche, his face twisted in concentration and his muscles bulging and glistening with exertion. He had a bandana around his hair and safety goggles pushed up on his forehead. He looked every bit the image Daichi had conjured when Asahi had referred to metalworking--like an old-fashioned blacksmith crossed with a mechanic. Daichi didn’t realize he was into that aesthetic until _that very moment_ , but holy shit, he was into it. His mouth went a little dry at the image, and something delicious and naughty stirred in his stomach at the sheer power in those gorgeous arms. Damn, Daichi worked hard on his arms, and his didn’t look like that. 

Asahi must have caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye, because as soon as he tempered whatever he was hammering in the barrel of water next to him, he waved and gestured vaguely at all the machinery. Daichi chose to interpret that as “stay still or die,” not because Asahi was threatening him, but because he felt a little bit like he was on a work site without permission. He half expected a loose anvil to fall on him.

He watched as Asahi fussed around the foundry, flicking switches and turning dials. The temperature dropped a little bit when Asahi killed the forge, and when he hit a big red button on the wall, everything beyond his earphones when blissfully silent. Asahi grinned, pulling out a pair of really fancy-looking earplugs. 

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I meant to be done already, but I kind of got swept up in this piece I’m working on and lost track of time. I hope you didn’t touch the tiger lillies. I still have to file down those edges.” 

Daichi didn’t hear a damn word he said. Without the glow of the forge and the roar of the machinery, he still looked so, so good. He was flushed from the high temperatures, and his eyes were bright from doing something he loved. He yanked his gloves and bandana off, tossing them onto the work bench. He made his way towards the door, rattling off something about maybe getting a shower before dinner, when Daichi caught him around the wrist. 

Daichi hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d touched someone before this. The electric feeling zipped up his arms from the point of contact and settled warmly in his stomach. He shivered, fighting a grin when he realized how pliant and willing Asahi was. He wound an arm around his waist, pulling him close until the smell of hot metal and sweat was almost too much to bear.

“Daichi, I’m sweaty,” Asahi said softly, a perfunctory protest even as he let his hand slip around the back of Daichi’s neck. 

“Don’t care,” Daichi growled, sliding his hands into the messy twist at the base of Asahi’s neck. He groaned softly, sending sparks into Daichi’s core. “You look good. Good enough to kiss.” 

“Oh?” Asahi quirked a playful brow at him. 

“Can I?” Daichi asked, pressing their foreheads together. Their noses brushed, and he had to close his eyes against the intensity. “Kiss you? Can I kiss you?” 

Asahi made a strangled sound that closely resembled the word ‘please,’ so Daichi took his opportunity. He pushed Asahi’s jaw with his thumbs, gently angling his head until he could press their lips together in a searing kiss. There was a sharp inhale and an embarrassing groan that _definitely_ didn’t come out of Daichi, but what was going to start as a small, chaste kiss quickly got out of control. 

He felt dizzy when Asahi gently parted his lips, inviting him in with small flickers of his tongue. Those big hands pulled Daichi closer, pressing into the exposed skin at the small of his back. They held each other so tight, they touched from their chests to nearly their knees. There was a quiver in Asahi’s breath, and something hot and wet ran over Daichi’s hand. 

“Asahi…” he pulled back, wiping gently at his cheeks. “Asahi, you’re crying.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, averting his eyes. “It’s just… I missed that. I missed you. So much… I missed out on so much running away from you, and you’re _here_ , and you’re still such a great kisser, and I--”

Daichi cut him off with his fingertips against his lips. He grinned, pulling the big oaf in for another kiss; “I missed you, too. But we’re good. I promise.” 

Asahi drew him into a crushing hug, winding his arms around him and burying his face into his shoulder. _Fuck_ , Asahi was shaking. He was trembling and holding Daichi like he was a lifeline, and he wasn’t sure he could handle that. He took as much of Asahi’s weight as he could, holding him like he never wanted to let go. He didn’t want to let go. If he didn’t fear for the fate of his favorite jeans, he’d have sunk to the floor and showed Asahi how much he loved him right then and there. 

Instead, he settled on kissing Asahi on the temple, letting the balloon of joy in his chest burst and fill him with an indescribable warmth. He felt the years of separation melt between them, every point of contact like a balm, healing the mistrust and the hurt and the betrayal and the distance. It made something sit right in Daichi’s chest; it was something he hadn’t even realized it was off-kilter until it wasn’t anymore. 

So this was what it was like to have another half. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image is a commission from Tsuumei   
> Please check it out here:   
> https://tsuumei.tumblr.com/post/182176695726/blacksmith-asahi-for-therealemma-trevelyan
> 
> And please please commission them if you can, I've done it twice and they are delightful to work with (and draw Asahi absolutely deliciously)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some more explicit medical stuff in this chapter. I don't go into detail, but I know some people can be triggered by mentions of stuff like that, so just heed my warning and take care of yourself.

**_Five Years Ago_ **

Looking back, Asahi wished he’d said something meaningful to Daichi when they’d parted ways after that last practice. Instead, he just murmured something about not sharing his dinner if Daichi kept teasing him, giving his customary three kisses, and left. It would be the last time he spoke to Daichi for a long, long time. 

He’d wanted to head up to the room to relax for a bit, maybe order from that new Chinese place around the corner. Their crab fried rice was to die for, and his allowance was supposed to be in soon. He pulled out his phone to check his account, and he nearly dropped it when it buzzed with a text from his mom. 

**_Mom:_ ** _ Sweetheart, I need you to call me right away. I don’t want you to worry, but it’s important. _

He didn’t hesitate, and thankfully she picked up on the first ring; “Mom! What’s wrong? Is it grandma? Bob-kun? What happened?” 

“Sweetheart, I need you to calm down,” she said smoothly. 

He felt like he’d swallowed an ice cube. That was the voice she used on patients. It was the one that meant she had awful news; “Mom…” 

“Asahi, I have cancer. I went to a doctor about my migraines; they did an MRI and found a growth. They’re going to biopsy it, but given its location… sweetie it’s not good.” 

She rattled it off so quickly, he barely had time to process it. His mom had cancer. His only living parent. The one he lived away from, wanted to move away from… she had cancer. Suddenly, his limbs didn’t feel real. He felt like he wasn’t attached to his body. He curled his free hand into a fist to get rid of the disembodied feeling, but it didn’t work. 

“Asahi?” 

“Hold on, I’m going to throw up,” he said calmly. 

And then he did.

~~~

Oligodendroglioma. He had no idea what it meant, and even with it written in front of him, he would have trouble pronouncing it, but that was the type of tumor his mother had. His mother’s oncologist, Dr. Niijima, rattled off various treatments and management techniques--his mother didn’t want to go straight to chemotherapy, if it could be avoided--but it was malignant, it was considered high grade, and it was fatal.

So much for “just a quick meeting with the oncologist, then it’s straight back to school.” 

“It formed in the frontal lobe, which means you’ll probably have some issues with memory and movement,” Niijima said, showing them printouts of his mother’s MRIs. “There are drugs that can manage its growth that don’t involve chemotherapy, although I have to recommend it as the most effective method.” 

“I understand that,” she said. “But I want chemo to be my last resort. I don’t want to require full-time care right off the bat.” 

“Azumane-san--” Niijima said, shooting a disapproving glare down his nose. 

“It’s my decision,” Atsuko said firmly. “I had to watch my husband go through this, and these are my wishes.” 

“Mom,” Asahi said weakly, taking her hand. “Look, I can come take care of you, alright? If the doctor says it’s the best bet--” 

“Asahi, no,” she interrupted. “This is my decision, sweetheart. I don’t want chemo so long as other options are viable.” 

Asahi rubbed at his temples, hoping his headache was benign. After losing one parent to cancer, and now his other parent… he was just being paranoid. It didn’t matter. He tried to absorb as much as he could from Dr. Niijima. He walked out of the office feeling numb and overwhelmed, trying not to panic about the fact that he’d literally forgotten everything he’d heard. He hoped his mother remembered. 

He should have written things down. 

~~~

He dropped out of school. He dropped out of school in the shittiest way possible, but he had to. He couldn’t go back; not knowing his mother was home fucking  _ dying _ . So he dropped out. He knew he should have talked to Daichi. If nothing else, at least to cut the poor guy loose. They were just getting started, but Asahi was just a burden now. He had a burden of his own, and he couldn’t weigh down a man who was always so stunning and strong. Daichi deserved more than him. 

He’d snuck back to school between Daichi’s classes, packed up his things as efficiently as possible, and left without saying goodbye. 

It was naive to think Daichi would leave it at that. Daichi was too good, and he was stubborn. He wouldn’t let Asahi go without a fight, even if he wasn’t worth fighting for. A constant barrage of messages clogged his phone daily, and Daichi’s worry was tangible even through text.

**_Daichi, Monday 08:30--_ ** _ Hey, I heard you went home for family stuff. Is everything ok? _

**_Daichi, Tuesday 09:20--_ ** _ You haven’t been to practice for a few days. No one’s heard from you. Seriously, please call me, I’m starting to worry. _

**_Daichi, Wednesday 08:14--_ ** _ Asahi, this is getting old. You haven’t been back to the room in like, a week. Could you just answer your damn phone?  _

**_Daichi, Thursday 14:40--_ ** _ Asahi, your stuff is gone. So that means I either have a very un-greedy burglar who just wanted your stuff or you had it moved out. What the fuck?  _

**_Daichi, Thursday 15:32--_** _Asahi, please call me, I’m worried._

**_Daichi, Friday 09:45--_ ** _ Coach was just talking to Semi-san about syncing up with your replacement. Are you not coming back?  _

It continued much like that for a long time. It was near constant. When Asahi wouldn’t answer texts, he left angry voicemails. And hoo boy, was Daichi fucking  _ angry. _ There was still that edge of concern, but it was mostly just him going off on his Dad Lectures about responsibility and how worried he was and how he and Asahi were supposed to be friends.

Then, late one night after about six months, Asahi got a voicemail at about 3:30 in the morning. Going against every screaming instinct telling him to just delete it, he wanted to hear Daichi’s voice. He needed to… 

_ “Asahi, I… God, I feel so stupid. I’m drunk. I think. Iwaizumi tried to take my phone away, but I wouldn’t let him, which means I’m definitely drunk. I don’t remember what I drank… but like, everyone’s asleep and Suga is staying the weekend and I saw him and Tendou sucking face earlier and like… it was gross. Like, way gross. Seriously, Suga is the sloppiest kisser. You missed it. You… you missed everything. And Tendou looks at Suga like the sun fucking rises in his eyes, and you used to look at me like that. I fucking miss you, Asahi. I fucking  _ love _ you, and I miss you. And you’re treating me like shit, ignoring me like this. I know you’re alive because you keep reading my messages, you dick. I just… I want to know why. What happened? Was it… was it me? Did I do something? How can I apologize if you won’t let me see you… I want to see you. Please just… just call me. Please. I love you.”  _

After that, Asahi got a new phone number. He never heard from Daichi again. 

~~~

Things felt unsettlingly normal for a while. Asahi transferred to a college a little closer to home and moved back in with his mother. He went to classes. He stayed home. He did chores. He had to give up volleyball, but he still kept in shape. It felt like high school but… different. Maybe it was the ticking clock that kept him up late at night. Maybe it was the pile of appointments and prescriptions he now had to manage, the weekly visits to Dr. Niijima, the changes in his mother…

Maybe it was the knowledge that she was dying. He didn’t know. 

After about six months, Atsuko’s migraines got bad enough that she would have long hours where she couldn’t even come out of her room. Asahi had to take over a lot of the basic chores, which he didn’t mind. It gave him something to do. Unfortunately, that was sort of the last time his life was anywhere approaching normal ever again. 

Dr. Niijima was constantly changing Atsuko’s medication regime, but the tumor was growing, and their options were quickly running dry. Asahi no longer marked the passage of time in days or months, but by his mother’s progression. Her symptoms just got worse and worse, and Asahi took on more and more. He exchanged schoolwork for an actual job when a local construction contractor put out a recruitment ad. It didn’t need experience, it had flexible hours, and it paid well. 

It was perfect, especially given that the hospital encouraged Atsuko to take an indefinite leave of absence during her treatment. 

After Atsuko’s first stroke, Dr. Niijima would no longer take no for an answer, and they began chemotherapy. Asahi spent that time in an exhausted haze, working long, tiring hours. He managed the house. The smell of home quickly became acrid. It smelled like… 

Well, it smelled like chemo. He hated that smell. He knew he would never forget it. 

On a rare afternoon that Asahi had off, he was spending time catching up on housework. His mother was sitting at the table with a cup of tea, staring at a spot on the wall. Her hands were shaking. They’d started shaking after her stroke. It was quiet, though, and she hadn’t spoken nonsense to him in days (Dr. Niijima told him that that was, unfortunately, fairly normal), so he could almost pretend everything was ok. The smell of the scented candle he’d splurged on almost drowned out the smell of illness that had seeped into the surfaces of his childhood home. He could almost pretend he still had pleasant memories in his own house. 

Then, Atsuko shifted in her chair and said, “Jun, I think I want mushroom curry for dinner tonight.” 

Asahi dropped the bowl he’d been washing, watching blankly as it shattered on the floor. Jun was his father’s name. Jun had been dead for years. Dr. Niijima had told him to prepare for potential memory loss and symptoms of dementia, but given that she hadn’t even lost her hair yet, he thought that maybe-- _ maybe _ \--it wouldn’t happen. That she would still be his mother. 

~~~

The bills were starting to pile up. He needed a second job, but between his construction job and caring for his mother, almost every hour of most days was spoken for. The insurance would probably cover a home nurse for some things, but he was still needed. He barely felt human anymore. He was 21. He was supposed to be out living his life. He was supposed to be finishing up his art history degree, maybe considering graduate school so he could  _ teach _ . He would still be playing volleyball.

Resentfully, he realized that he would still be dating Daichi. He wondered if Daichi had moved on, gotten someone he deserved. He wondered if Daichi hated him for what he did. Part of him hoped he did--Daichi deserved so much better than Asahi, who was feeling more and more like an emptied-out husk every day. 

After dropping his mother off at the hospital for treatment, he had to get out. He couldn’t be in that sterile room that smelled like sickness and disinfectant anymore. He had to get  _ out _ . He found himself tracing a familiar route--one he took a lot when he was a teenager. The old ramen shop Tanaka’s family owned back in high school. He idly wondered if their family still owned it, if Tanaka’s dad still put that tablespoon of chili oil in his tonkotsu broth that made it taste a bit like being slapped in the face, if being slapped in the face was a good thing. 

He felt silly when he walked through the curtain, hearing Saeko-san’s familiar voice greet him. Her hair was longer, still dyed blonde and cut harshly around her face. She looked identical to how she’d looked the last time he saw her at his going away party...God, had it been three years already? Sitting at the counter, staring at him like they’d just seen a ghost, were Tanaka and Ukai. 

“Asahi-san?” Tanaka’s voice was soft and disbelieving. “Asahi-san, is it… is it really you?” 

Tanaka was bigger. He had a pair of plugs in his earlobes. Ukai had stopped dying his hair--it was styled the same, but it was all brown now. The laugh lines around his eyes were deeper than when Asahi was a teenager. They were different. 

Hell,  _ Asahi _ was different. He could tell by the way they were staring, like they couldn’t believe he was there. He didn’t know why he was there. That ramen shop was filled with happy memories. It was where he’d kissed Daichi for the first time. It was where he’d had his first sip of beer (and, coincidentally, the first time he’d thrown up as a result of beer). He’d spent so long in a haze of duty and obligation and just getting from one day to the next alive, he felt like he had no happiness left. He was staring at a diorama of his life, a happy memory set up in front of him like a museum piece. And on your left, you’ll see Azumane Asahi’s happy childhood before cancer set it ablaze. 

But then, Tanaka’s strong arms were around him, tight and enthusiastic. Just like before. And Ukai clapped him on the back and Saeko ruffled his hair and he realized it was the first time he’d been touched in over a year. 

“It’s good to see you, Azumane,” Ukai said, his voice as gravelly and warm as Asahi remembered. “You look like shit.” 

And Asahi  _ laughed _ . He laughed, because yeah, he probably looked like shit. A few years of too-little sleep and stress would do that to a guy. And he laughed so hard he almost cried at Ukai’s blunt honesty. 

“Don’t listen to him, Azumane, you’re as handsome as you always were,” Saeko said warmly, squeezing his cheeks between her palms. “Is tonkotsu still your favorite?”

“Yeah,” Asahi said softly. His own voice sounded weird to him. It took him a bit to realize it was because he sounded  _ happy _ . 

Saeko set him up at the counter with a bowl of his favorite ramen and extra toppings. She also set out a plate of gyoza and a bottle of Sapporo because he was over 20 now and he looked like he could use a beer. It felt nice to just unwind and chat. It felt normal. It felt  _ right _ . He did the math, and the last time he’d had an adult conversation that didn’t involve dosages and appointments and symptoms, he hadn’t been old enough to drink. 

He’d been lonely. 

“So, Asahi-san,” Tanaka said, toying with the neck of his own beer bottle. “How’ve you been? You sort of disappeared on everyone.” 

Asahi shrugged, trying to go for nonchalant. He was sure it didn’t work. “It’s been… tough. I had to drop out of school. I transferred back to the area, but I could only take a class or two at a time. I’ve been working a lot.” 

“You were so excited about school,” Saeko said, tilting her head innocently. She was just genuinely curious. She wasn’t prying or anything. 

But Asahi couldn’t keep it in anymore. He couldn’t just sit on it and seethe until it festered and poisoned his insides. 

So he told them. He told them everything. He told them about taking care of his mother and her treatments, about her loss of impulse control and her memory and her loss of motor control and everything else horrible that was happening to her. About 50 hour work weeks and doctors appointments and losing sleep over literally everything. About feeling alone and isolated and angry and guilty for feeling that way. He let everything out until his shoulders were shaking with ugly, barely-contained sobs and his throat was raw and he felt a bit like a wrung-out dishrag. 

Tanaka, Ukai, and Saeko didn’t say anything. Tanaka slipped an arm around Asahi’s shoulder, remembering how Asahi tended to thrive on physical contact. Saeko patted the back of his hand, handing him another beer. Ukai just listened. He was good at that. 

He didn’t exactly feel lighter for unloading his burdens. But he felt better. 

~~~

Asahi hadn’t realized how much just having friends who listened helped. Immediately after the fiasco at the ramen shop, Ukai had offered him a job at Sakanoshita. It wasn’t much-- a few hours a week at most--but it was flexible, it helped Ukai out, and Asahi had a little extra money. Saeko pointed him in the direction of a friend of hers who was trying to open a bar in the area. He immediately hired Asahi for as many hours as Asahi could spare to help manage the place. Finally, Asahi felt like he had his head above water. 

It was hard, but it was the first month in a long time where, after everything was paid, he had a little extra. He immediately bought a bag of pork buns from Sakanoshita. They reminded him of better, happier times. 

Tanaka convinced him that he needed an outlet, and after getting so frustrated with nurses he nearly punched a wall, he agreed. Tanaka had found a boxing gym not far from the ramen shop, and he and Asahi went there about three nights a week to just get some aggression out, keep in shape, and just be together again. Asahi hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Tanaka before. But he’d really missed Tanaka. 

He knew everyone was silently and invisibly helping when he wasn’t looking. Saeko had memorized Atsuko’s treatment schedule, and whenever Asahi took her out of the house, Saeko snuck in to clean. She always left a bento from Tanaka in the fridge for him along with a note on his neatly-folded laundry, telling him she’d been there. She started insisting he called her Nee-san. Ukai kept slipping extra money into his pay when he could afford it, citing Asahi helping with Karasuno’s practices as reasoning. Asahi wasn’t naive--his “help” with Karasuno was more for his benefit than Ukai’s. 

Tanaka was probably better than all of it combined. He was Asahi’s  _ lifeline _ . He never would have made it without Tanaka. When Asahi wasn’t working or bringing his mother to treatments, Tanaka was with him. They often just got together to drink or watch movies together. When Atsuko spent weekends in the hospital and Asahi couldn’t breathe for the panic closing in around him, Tanaka would grab an overnight bag, get into pajamas, and hang out until Sunday night when it would be time to go get Atsuko and prepare for work on Monday. 

After the hospital recommended Asahi hire a nurse to help take care of his mother, it freed up even more of his time. His therapist recommended devoting that time to something he enjoyed. Asahi had never stopped loving art. He still drew and sketched. He’d even went out and splurged on new watercolors, which he used with absolute gusto. He took artsy photos with his phone--his Instagram had become a bit of a hit in the hipster art scene. But his true passion, other than his desire to teach art someday, he disclosed to Tanaka on one vaguely tipsy night, watching the TV without really watching it. 

“Metalworking?” Tanaka asked. “Really? Like, blacksmithing and stuff?” 

Asahi shrugged; “Sort of. Less like, horseshoes and iron gates and more sculpture, you know?” 

“I think you’d be good at that,” Tanaka said, his face serious. He nodded, like he was seriously contemplating something. The red flush on his cheeks sort of took away from the effect. “Plus, you already look like every mother’s romance novels about a hardened, bad-boy lumberjack hardened by cold winters in the mountains.” 

“You just said ‘hardened’ twice,” Asahi teased.

“Well, you are very hard,” Tanaka replied, waving his bottle at Asahi. “You’re… muscley. And… hard.”

Asahi nearly spit out his beer when he laughed. He was quite tipsy. “Thanks? I think.” 

“I only speak truth,” Tanaka hiccuped. “You are very sexy, Asahi-san.” 

“You are going to regret that in the morning,” Asahi said, his flaming face drooping a bit in disappointment. No one had ever called him sexy. Ever. Not even--

_ Don’t think his name. Don’t think about him. Not here. Not now. Not ever. _

“I’ve always thought you were sexy, Asahi-san,” Tanaka said, shifting back into the couch cushions. “I just never had the courage to say anything.” 

“You’re drunk,” Asahi grumbled in protest.

“Yes, I am,” Tanaka waved his bottle around for emphasis, “but I’m also serious. I mean it, Asahi-san, I had the most ridiculous crush on you. I even told Noya-san once. He said I should go for it, but…” He cut himself off, biting his lip. 

Asahi could feel his heart pounding in his chest, nervous flutters of anticipation radiating from his stomach to his fingertips; “Tanaka?” 

He laughed that warm, sweet, hearty laugh that hadn’t changed since high school; “Come on, Asahi-san, you and Daichi-san were so  _ married _ . I remember that night before our match with Inarizaki at Nationals. I wanted to follow you out onto the balcony, but… you were already out there with Daichi-san. Plus, Daichi-san’s crush was super obvious.” 

“His crush?” 

“On you,” Tanaka continued, his blue eyes boring into Asahi with frightening honesty and vulnerability. “It was obvious to everyone except you. He took it harder than anyone when you left; I think he got his hopes up when you came back.” 

“I…” Asahi swallowed hard. “I never knew. Why didn’t anyone… why didn’t anyone say anything?” 

“Well, we didn’t tell about Daichi-san because it wasn’t our secret to tell,” Tanaka said with a shrug. “And me… well, I guess I was just a coward. I didn’t even know if you liked guys.”

“Well, I obviously do,” Asahi said bitterly. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Asahi-san!” Tanaka said, flicking Asahi’s ear in a gesture that was so  _ achingly _ familiar, it made him choke up a bit. “A little naive, a lot oblivious when it comes to people liking you, but not stupid.” 

“Well it doesn’t matter anymore,” Asahi said with a sigh. “I fucked it all up with… with Daichi. I’ll probably never see him again.” 

“He misses you, you know.” Tanaka ran his hand over the buzzed part of his hair. “He mentioned it last time I saw him. He misses you a lot.” 

“When did you see him?” Asahi felt like his esophagus was attempting to escape. 

“A few months ago,” Tanaka answered. “He invited Noya-san and I up to Tokyo to visit him and take us to a party. Believe me it was weird, seeing Daichi-san cut loose like that. But you know him--when he gets tipsy, he gets weepy.” 

Asahi chuckled sadly, his chest aching with nostalgia; “Yeah. Sounds like Daichi, alright.”

“Do you…” Tanaka bit his lip, swallowing hard. “Do you miss him?” 

“All the time. Every day. I saved his last voicemail he sent me… I listen to it sometimes.” 

“Why don’t you call him, then?” Tanaka asked.

Asahi sighed, staring at his knees; “I have too many burdens, Tanaka. Too much baggage. The bills just keep getting bigger and bigger, and Mom’s chances… they aren’t looking good. They want to start her on a drug trial soon, but…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His throat caught on a sob that he choked on trying to stifle it. 

“Asahi-san…” Tanaka put his arm around Asahi’s shoulders so gently, holding him so tightly, that his breath caught. “Asahi-san, I’m sorry. I wish there was something more I could say. Something I could do.” 

Tanaka was warm, soft and solid. More importantly, he was  _ there. _ Maybe it wasn’t fair to any of them--not to Daichi, and certainly not to Tanaka--that Asahi was thinking of a different warm, muscled body he wanted pressed against him. If Asahi were a better person--if he wasn’t a coward--he would probably deserve better. He would deserve someone who loved him for him, and not someone nursing an old crush while he nursed older wounds. 

He pressed Tanaka into the tatami mats, collapsing on top of him in a clumsy press of bodies. Tanaka’s breath hitched, and his shirt rode up to expose the beautiful, tanned, deeply-muscled body and golden skin. God, he was gorgeous. Asahi knew it. Even if he didn’t feel that way about Tanaka--even if this could never be more than  _ this _ \--he wanted it. 

The press of skin was addictive, and  _ oh, _ he wanted it. 

“Asahi-san,” Tanaka whispered, his breathing labored and hot and humid between them. 

“I need you tonight, Tana--Ryunosuke. Ryuu. I need you,” Asahi growled, pressing his face into the curve of Tanaka’s neck. It was too delicate, too long, too thin… Tanaka was always so sharp where Daichi was thicker, softer, more square… but  _ damn it _ , Tanaka was right here. And he was beautiful and he was hard in his pajama pants and he was under Asahi like every filthy, puberty-driven fantasy Asahi had ever had. 

When he breathed next to Tanaka’s neck, he couldn’t smell the sickness anymore. He couldn’t smell the acrid smell of chemo and sweat and morphine and disinfectant and death. He didn’t feel the crushing loneliness when Tanaka’s hot, humid breath ghosted over his ear and his long fingers buried themselves in Asahi’s hair. 

It wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what either one of them wanted. But it was enough. 


	8. Chapter 8

**_Present_ **

Asahi’s apartment was still mostly as Daichi remembered, with a few exceptions. There were locks and childproofing on some drawers. More space had been cleared, ostensibly for the wheelchair folded up in the corner, and there were sticky notes everywhere. 

_ Turn off the gas.  _

_ Turn off the water. _

_ Close the fridge.  _

Daichi swallowed. Combined with the strange smell of the place--one that had never been present when he’d come to study here in high school--it made him a little uneasy. He also didn’t think he’d ever seen a place so spotlessly clean before. 

“Jesus, Asahi, I don’t remember you being so finicky about the counters back in college,” Daichi said, raising his eyebrow at the scrubbed sink. 

“Oh…” Asahi rubbed at the back of his neck. “Mom’s immune system isn’t… Chemo does things. She could get sick real easy. So I keep the place clean.” 

Daichi blinked a few times; “Oh… Asahi, I’m so--” 

Asahi cut him off with a swift, firm kiss. His large, rough hands cradled Daichi’s jaw, thumbs sweeping over his cheeks. Daichi’s knees wobbled as he tumbled into Asahi’s chest like a damn shoujo manga heroine, and he didn’t even care. One of those powerful, thick arms snared Daichi around the waist and drew him so close he didn’t even have to support his own weight. It felt so  _ good _ and he felt so cherished and damn it, he was so weak. 

“I don’t want to think about that right now,” Asahi said, his voice a low, sexy growl. God, when had Asahi gotten so… confident? “All I want is to think about you and you being here and you looking like every one of my bisexual wet dreams right now.” 

Daichi flushed. He didn’t know what to wear on dates anymore, so he’d thrown on a jewel-colored t-shirt, dark jeans, and a black blazer. He’d questioned the blazer until he caught Asahi staring at the way it flared dramatically, giving the illusion that Daichi had any sort of defined waist. 

_ Hope he’s not disappointed in my Dad Bod. _

He shook himself when Asahi hooked his fingers into the loops on Daichi’s jeans; the warmth of Asahi’s overheated skin penetrated his clothes, making shivers radiate outward from the points of contact. Daichi cuffed Asahi’s wrists with his hands, his eyes sliding shut at the feel of Asahi’s pulse hammering--hard, but slow and steady--under his fingers. 

“So, what do you want to do?” Asahi asked, stepping into Daichi’s space. 

Daichi figured his sweet Asahi would perish at the mere mention of the  _ real _ thoughts running through Daichi’s head--mainly, wanting to be driven into the nearest flat surface until he screamed himself hoarse--so instead, he bought himself time by feigning deep consideration. 

“I don’t know.” They hadn’t made a concrete plan, in case something came up, like work or… an emergency. “Did you want to go somewhere?” 

Asahi winced, his face softening into that familiar, apologetic smile that made Daichi  _ melt; _ “I get out a lot. I so rarely have the apartment to myself because I  _ want _ it to myself. Can we… can we stay in? If that’s ok! If you really want to go somewhere, I can rally!” 

Daichi laughed, giving into the urge to lean into Asahi’s chest. He nuzzled the sweaty fabric stretched too-tight over Asahi’s chest. As much as he’d changed, he hadn’t  _ really _ changed… the thought comforted him. 

He didn’t miss  _ everything. _

“Nah, we can stay in,” Daichi said, punching Asahi softly on the arm. Asahi rubbed at the offended spot like it actually hurt, and that just made Daichi think of Suga. “We can order in, or whatever you’re in the mood for.” 

“Actually, I’m going to take a shower, because I smell like burning metal and a sweat monster,” Asahi said. “And then, we can maybe hit up the supermarket real fast? I can cook whatever you want.” 

“Fine, then,” Daichi said with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Sukiyaki and Wagyu Beef hot pot.” 

Asahi’s face fell for about half a second before it twisted into a pout. He punched Daichi in the chest--probably a little harder than necessary--before he reached behind his neck to pull his shirt off; “Why are you like this, Daichi?” 

_ Because you’re too easy, _ got caught on Daichi’s tongue. God, Asahi was so… so good. He was thick, unbearably muscled in places. For fuck’s sake, he could  _ count _ Asahi’s abs! It wasn’t fair. Daichi sucked his soft stomach in a little bit out of habit. He was definitely staring. He didn’t care that he was staring. Especially when Asahi caught him and flexed his pecs with a smirk. 

“Make yourself at home,” Asahi said in a way that should not have sounded like a sex-starved purr. “I’ll be right out.” 

Daichi remained rooted to the spot, attempting to control his breathing, until he heard the shower start. He remembered Asahi’s showers from high school, so he decided to use his free time to snoop. Asahi had replaced his old French press with a bonafide espresso maker (a gift, maybe?) because of course he had. There was an easel set up by the window, complete with a painting drying in the sun. There was a photo propped next to it… the painting was a portrait of Atsuko. 

Daichi looked away from it, feeling like he’d stumbled onto something incredibly private. If he remembered correctly, the bedroom just off the living room was Atsuko’s, so he left that alone. He did, however, linger over the full bookshelf near Asahi’s father’s altar. He recognized Atsuko and Jun’s wedding photo, the photo of baby Asahi in his father’s arms, a pre-school aged Asahi in his first yukata… Daichi grinned at that one. Asahi used to be so  _ small _ . The long sweep of his lashes and soft curls in that angelic face made him look like a little doll. 

More photos had been added in the time since he’d last been there. There was one of Asahi with Tanaka and Alyx at a festival, one of Asahi and Tanaka with Oikawa and Iwaizumi from Aoba Johsai (Daichi would have to interrogate him about that one later), one of Noya in his National Team uniform, one of Atsuko on the beach, grinning and happy and young… but none of them had a special place. Not like the one on the top shelf, nestled between a jar of sea shells and a scented candle. This one had a place of honor. This one made Daichi’s breath catch in his throat. 

It was a selfie Daichi and Asahi had taken when they first moved in to their dorm. They were flopped on Asahi’s bed, the wine-colored comforter near black in the low, golden light of the photo. Their faces were red with the exertion of moving in and the heat of the shower they’d just taken, judging by the way Asahi’s hair clung damply to his head. Daichi was grinning like a mad man, so wide it crinkled his eyes in the corners, and Asahi… Asahi was smiling at Daichi like he was the only thing beautiful in the whole world. 

How had he not seen it earlier? How had he wasted his time, trying to build up the courage to confess? If he’d known… if he could go back… 

No. He wouldn’t change anything. Because if he did, he risked not being  _ there.  _ In that moment, with an achingly beautiful adult Asahi in the next room, naked and wet under a shower spray, silently beckoning Daichi down the hall with his mere presence. He couldn’t take it anymore. He replaced the photo, let his blazer drop to the floor, and went into the bathroom. The air was thick with steam, and Daichi could feel the humidity heat his face… or maybe that was just anticipation. The rustle of his clothes as he scrambled out of them was lost in the sound of the shower. There was so little separating them… just a clouded glass door through which Daichi could see Asahi’s powerful silhouette. He was humming… Daichi always liked it when Asahi did that. He’d missed it. 

Asahi jumped when Daichi opened the shower door, but when he caught Daichi’s eyes, his shocked expression melted into something darker. More sultry. Filled with desire. Daichi couldn’t hold back anymore. He stepped under the scalding spray and dragged Asahi into a wet, steamy kiss. 

The shower was too hot, and the water made things awkward, but Daichi didn’t care, because Asahi curled around him, one hand at the small of his back and one fisted in the short hair at the base of his neck. Asahi drew him into a dramatic arch, rocking his hips forward where his steadily-hardening cock rubbed against Daichi’s hips. Daichi keened--a high pitched, embarrassing sound--but when his knees went weak and Asahi caught his weight in his arms, he didn’t care. He didn’t care, because Asahi was kissing him like a man dying of thirst and Daichi’s lips were water. 

In a whirl of movement and force, Asahi slammed Daichi’s back into the wall of the shower, letting his lips drag over Daichi’s jaw and down his neck. Daichi felt his breath seize in his chest when Asahi’s big hands grasped his thighs. Hot, wet kisses--soft lips and rough stubble and the sharp edge of teeth--dragged down his neck until Asahi sank his teeth into the muscle between his neck and shoulder. Daichi keened, long and loud, while the mark throbbed with his quickened pulse. 

“Asahi,” he whined. “Asahi,  _ please _ .” 

Asahi’s eyes were dark, chocolate brown rings in a black abyss, and his broad shoulders heaved with his labored breath. His hands on Daichi’s waist were so tight, they probably left bruises, but Daichi didn’t care. 

“What about food?” Asahi said with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

Daichi sunk his hand into Asahi’s wet hair, pulling hard enough to sting. Asahi  _ moaned _ , filthy and debauched, letting it echo off the bathroom walls. Daichi could  _ feel _ Asahi’s cock surge against his hip, and judging by the look he was getting, he may have just made a very,  _ very  _ wonderful mistake. 

“Please get take out,” Daichi begged. “Later. Because I am not letting you leave this apartment until you fuck me.” 

Asahi’s eyes widened as he blindly scrambled to turn the water off. The sudden silence was almost too much, made the atmosphere too thick, until Asahi crushed Daichi against the tile once more. Daichi rocked up onto his toes, desperately trying to press as much of his bare skin against Asahi’s as he could. It was wet and uncomfortable, and without the hot water their skin was cooling too quickly, but he didn’t  _ care _ . 

“My stuff,” Asahi groaned. “It’s in my bedroom.” 

“Then take me to bed,” Daichi purred, nipping at Asahi’s ear.

They dried off in a frenzy, not even bothering to cover themselves as they practically sprinted down the hall. Asahi’s bedroom had always been warm and comforting and soft, a place of peace and serenity, but the afternoon sun struggling to penetrate the dark curtains and the huge, soft bed covered in fluffy pillows and an impossibly pillowy comforter looked downright seductive. Or maybe that was just Asahi. 

Daichi found himself under Asahi, who was mawing at Daichi’s neck with enough enthusiasm to make Daichi shiver. He sank into the mattress, Asahi big and warm and heavy over him, his hands on Daichi’s hips, his rough thumbs drawing smooth, soothing circles over his skin… He wanted more. He’d gone so long without Asahi’s touch, and now after a mere taste, he was addicted. 

“Touch me,” Daichi said, his voice ragged and unrecognizably needy. “Please.” 

Asahi nodded, because he was nothing if not accommodating, and his hand curled loosely around Daichi’s cock. He gasped, the sensation electric, sending sparks to his fingertips, but it wasn’t enough. Asahi was doing it on purpose, drawing it out. He went so slowly, trying different things, different strokes, all with a blade-sharp focus on Daichi’s reactions. It was somehow too much and not enough; Daichi felt too large for his own skin. He wanted to cry. 

“Asahi,  _ please--”  _

“I want to suck your cock.” 

Daichi couldn’t even blink or  _ breathe _ after hearing those words come out of Asahi’s mouth, let alone respond. He just stared, watching Asahi’s dark eyes sparkle with mischief that had never been there before. His voice wouldn’t work, so he just nodded mutely, thanking any and every god in existence that he didn’t explode all over Asahi’s face just watching him sink to the floor. 

Asahi’s shoulders spread Daichi’s thighs impossibly wide, making him feel exposed and vulnerable. He shook when he first felt Asahi’s breath on him, and the first touch of that hot, wet tongue made him cry with want. He started with a barely-there touch, just brushing his tongue along the fat vein on the underside, up and down until Daichi shook with anticipation. He applied gentle suction around the frenulum before gripping tight around the base and taking Daichi’s cock into his mouth. 

Daichi might have cried a bit when Asahi sank onto him in one fluid movement, surrounded as he was by heat and wetness and _ Asahi. _ He could barely form words as Asahi’s quick, talented tongue pressed against the underside and he hollowed his cheeks. Daichi’s whole world narrowed to the thin, thin point of Asahi’s lips around him. His throat flexing around the head as Asahi took him to the base. Over and over. Again and again. 

Daichi yanked on Asahi’s hair on instinct, and the resulting choked moan around his cock was too much. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. He needed more.

“Asahi…” Daichi cried. “Asahi, please.” 

Asahi pulled off of him with an absurdly loud pop, the lewd slurp around the head making Daichi’s thighs quake with want. Daichi had to focus to keep it together. He could barely even think straight, let alone even begin… 

“I need you,” Asahi growled, his massive cock jutting out from between those thick, beautiful thighs. The head was flushed red, and he was dripping like a goddamn faucet, rocking against Dachi’s leg like on instinct. “I need you, Daichi. Please.” 

Daichi nodded, swallowing hard; “How… how do you want me?” 

“Like this,” Asahi said, smoothing his hands over the inside of Daichi’s thighs. “I want to see you.” 

Daichi couldn’t breath anymore. Not when Asahi retrieved a bottle of lube and a foil packet from the nightstand. He tried to push down his jealousy and possessiveness--why would he have those things unless… he didn’t want to think that way--until he felt Asahi’s warm, rough finger tap gently against his rim.

“I’ll go slow,” Asahi said, his voice a gentle but dark growl. “It’s been a while for me.” 

“Me too,” Daichi said, taking deep, relaxing breaths, before Asahi slid the first finger inside him. 

Asahi keened; “God, Daichi you’re so  _ tight. _ It’s good… it’s so good.” 

Daichi keened at the praise, trying not to bear down on Asahi’s finger, but it was  _ so much _ . How was he expected to take  _ more.  _ He knew he was shaking--he could hear it in his breath--but he couldn’t help it. Sensation ran down his spine, curled in his core, made his thighs tremble and his breath stutter…

“Relax,” Asahi whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against Daichi’s thigh. He hitched his thighs around his shoulders, opening Daichi up a little wider, and rested his cheek against Daichi’s skin. “I’ve got you, Daichi. I’ve got you.” 

Despite his heat and his urgency and the near-painful-looking erection hanging heavy between his legs, Asahi was so gentle. He opened Daichi by degrees, focusing more on making Daichi feel good than stretching him. He moved carefully, with slow thrusts of his fingers, working firm circles over Daichi’s prostate. He couldn’t handle it. It was too much. Everything was too much. He needed… he  _ needed _ . 

“I need you, Daichi,” Asahi whispered against his skin. “I… I need you.” 

“Please,” Daichi said, his voice ragged. A line of drool worked its way to his chin as he shook helplessly beneath Asahi. “ _ Please _ .” 

Asahi rolled the condom on with a hiss, wasting no time, before he pressed against Daichi’s entrance. Daichi tried not to tense up, but the pressure was  _ a lot _ , and  _ God _ Asahi was so big. Just the head was so overwhelming he couldn’t keep still, and despite the fact that Asahi was pressing into him so, so slowly, letting him acclimate with every agonizing centimeter, he still felt like he was dying. 

“Fuck,” Daichi whined. “Fuck,  _ fuck, _ I can’t. I can’t…”

Asahi shushed him gently, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle under Daichi’s ear. They were pressed so close, the heat was unbearable, and Daichi felt like all the air in his body was punched out and stagnant. He struggled not to writhe, his hips moving in aborted little thrusts until, finally, he felt Asahi’s hips against the backs of his legs. 

“God, Daichi, you’re so tight,” Asahi whimpered. “How… how am I supposed to last when you’re this tight.” 

Daichi tried to laugh, but he didn’t have enough oxygen. Instead, he let his heart slow, letting the closeness and the touch and the feel of Asahi’s strong heartbeat against his chest calm him. Slow him. Even with his face twisted in agonized pleasure like it was, Asahi was still  _ so beautiful. _ And he was there. He was on top of Daichi--inside Daichi--and his arms around Daichi shook with the effort not to move. Daichi gently touched his cheek, his thumb skating along the swell of his beautiful cheekbone, and Asahi leaned into the touch. His eyes, warm and soft, filled with tears.

And just like that, everything cooled a bit. It went from the unbearable heat of a wildfire to something softer, more comforting, like a favorite hot drink on a cold day. Like a soft sweater and a roaring fire. Like...like a huge, soft bed covered in fluffy pillows and an impossibly pillowy comforter. Daichi held tight, letting Asahi rock into him, letting himself ride in waves of pleasure and warmth and comfort, holding those broad shoulders… until he felt them shake. He brushed curious fingers along Asahi’s cheeks, and they came away damp. 

“Asahi,” Daichi said, his voice cracking with emotion. “Asahi, you’re crying.” 

Asahi sniffled, shaking his head. He wasn’t denying it--even if he couldn’t see, Daichi knew he couldn’t deny it. When Asahi pulled back to look at Daichi like the sun set in his eyes, he felt his heart stop. Asahi pressed their hands together, palm to palm, and Daichi let their fingers interlace to grip tightly. So tightly. He never wanted to let go. 

“I missed you,” Asahi said, choking on his own tears. “I missed you so much. Daichi… Daichi, I love you. I’ve always loved you.” 

Daichi squeezed Asahi’s hands, arching up for more closeness, more skin, more contact, aching to kiss Asahi’s soul out; “I know. I know… I love you.”

He knew what had started Asahi’s tears, because he felt something similar. He let Asahi’s kiss melt into him, drip into him like chocolate and honey, as he drank up the sumptuous affection. Five years. Five years of separation and worry and anxiety. Five years of loneliness and rejection and anger, feeling inferior and lacking. Five years of both of them silently longing for the other, two pieces that always fit so perfectly, and all the more jagged and wrong for their separation. 

“I know,” Daichi repeated, holding Asahi’s hands earnestly in his own. Because he did. It felt so fucking  _ good.  _ It felt impossibly perfect as old wounds peeled away, scabbed and healed over until they were just unpleasant memories, hazier in each other’s presence. 

“I’m sorry,” Asahi said, his hips picking up their pace. “I’m sorry, Daichi.”

Heat built between them, Asahi keeping pressure locked on Daichi’s prostate, rocking in and out of him in ways that made fire burn at the base of his spine. He pressed kisses to every part of Asahi he could reach--his cheeks, his neck, his temple--to show that he was forgiven. All was forgiven. He didn’t need more than this. They didn’t need more than each other. 

“Asahi, I’m--” Daichi cut off on a broken gasp, his hips hitching with every painfully-pleasurable thrust. 

“Come, Daichi,” Asahi growled, his hips picking up a more frenzied pace. ”God, Daichi, come for me. Please.” 

Asahi pulled back just enough to look at Daichi, his eyes dark and eager, like he wanted nothing more than to watch Daichi come apart at the mercy of his touch, and he didn’t have to wait. Daichi came so hard he felt like he was dying, his entire world narrowing to a point before exploding outward into color and light and sound and sensation. He clawed at Asahi’s shoulders, his free hand fisting in Asahi’s hair, while he writhed pathetically under Asahi until his hips stuttered on a groan. 

They collapsed in a pile of sweaty, sticky limbs, unwilling to part long enough to clean up. They’d spent too long apart, and now, it was too good to let go. They were unwilling to move, unable to move, so instead they indulged in slow, lazy, sloppy kisses that touched and came apart over and over again. They savored each other, making up for lost time. 

“I meant it, you know,” Asahi said, nuzzling at the spot behind Daichi’s ear that made him melt. “What I said. I love you, Daichi. I’m sorry. About everything.” 

He wasn’t going to say it was OK, because it wasn’t. But he couldn’t bring himself to allow any more distance because of this. He just wanted Asahi. He just wanted  _ this. _

“I know,” Daichi repeated. “I love you, too.”


	9. Chapter 9

Daichi woke to the feel of lips against the back of his neck. He was sweating--which wasn’t totally abnormal, considering how warm he ran, but he was sweating more than usual--and a strong arm braced him against a stronger body behind him. He wriggled his hips, and found something  _ very _ interesting. Asahi growled in his ear at the pressure.

Daichi chuckled under his breath; “And good morning to you, too.”

He peeled his eyes open, turning towards Asahi to give him a proper good morning kiss. They were both sweating, and Asahi’s hair was a nest of loose, wild waves, and Daichi considered his morning breath for a minute before Asahi pressed a hot, needy kiss against Daichi’s lips. His rough hands scraped over Daichi’s bare stomach, his fingers curling to scratch gently at his treasure trail. Daichi whimpered, pressing harder into Asahi’s body. A burning hot, velvet-soft length pressed against Daichi’s hip, making his cock twitch with interest.

“You had me twice last night, and you’re still so eager for me?” Daichi teased, rolling so he straddled Asahi’s hips. Pure sin. Asahi looked like pure sin, spread across the pillows, the sheet thrown off to show that deeply-muscled body… God, he was so perfect. “Making up for lost time, or something?” 

“Definitely,” Asahi purred, his warm, brown eyes blown dark with lust. He gripped Daichi’s hips with an almost bruising grip, punching the air from Daichi’s lungs and replacing it with desire. “You think after one night, I’ve had enough?” 

“Azumane Asahi, when did you get so smooth?” Daichi tried to go for teasing, but the insistent pressure against his cock and the unbearable heat of Asahi’s bare skin against the inside of his thighs took all the punch out of it. He wanted Asahi so bad he was practically gagging for it, and this new confidence that Asahi wore like a comfortable leather jacket was so unbearably sexy, it short circuited Daichi’s brain. 

“It’s all an act, Sawamura,” Asahi said with a saucy little wink. “I guess you bring out the best in me.” 

Daichi laughed; “Oh, hush you.” 

They rocked against each other, hard and red and pulsing between the two of them. It was too good, too sensitive, too much. They needed each other--Daichi needed Asahi so badly--but they didn’t want to separate long to get what they needed. Besides, Daichi was still sore from the previous night, and their gentle rutting was  _ so good _ . He whined, seeking more contact, more friction, just…  _ more.  _

Asahi seemed to have the same idea, because he closed his hand around their cocks with gentle pressure. He followed a pattern he’d found the previous night that had static building at the base of Daichi’s spine, his thumb dipping into the slit and using it to lubricate the slide. Daichi made a noise that was barely human, the whine building at the back of his throat almost alarmingly loud. Asahi watched him with such intensity, held Daichi’s gaze until he physically couldn’t look away, until Daichi tumbled over the point of no return. Asahi moaned, long and loud, and Daichi came with a shiver. Without warning. He twitched and groaned, his nails digging into Asahi’s shoulders while he was caught between wanting  _ more _ and wanting Asahi to stop. He may have screamed, but Asahi was kind enough not to say anything. 

They collapsed into a sweaty, sticky pile, desperately trying to get their breath back. Asahi drew lazy circles against Daichi’s back with his clean hand, and Daichi ran his hands through Asahi’s tangled hair. It was soft and quiet, and honestly if not for the unpleasant sensation of cooling come between them, Daichi could have stayed there all day. 

“We should shower,” Asahi said, a note of regret in his voice. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”

Daichi smirked up through his lashes, pressing his cheek against Asahi’s steady heart; “Join me? Save water, two birds, one stone?” 

“Sawamura Daichi, you just want your wicked, wicked way with me,” Asahi teased, scratching his nails over Daichi’s scalp. “But, considering I can’t deny you right now, make sure to bring the silicone lube. Not the water-based one.” 

~~~

They didn’t save water. Quite the opposite really--only when the shower went absolutely frigid did hey finally scrub themselves clean and flee back to Asahi’s bedroom. To get warm. Because the water was so cold. Of course. Now, they were lying in a nest of blankets, basking in a pool of golden sunshine like a pair of overgrown cats. Daichi ran his fingertips over the back of Asahi’s hands, lingering on a litte star-shaped tattoo on the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. There was a long, thin, white scar bisecting the star…

“When did you get this?” Daichi asked, running the tip of his finger over the little tattoo. 

“About a year ago,” Asahi replied, his free hand drawing meaningless shapes on the back of Daichi’s neck. Pleasant shivers ran down Daichi’s spin, chasing the sensation. “Oikawa talked me into it. Pro tip: don’t ever let Oikawa, major life decisions, and Awamori mix. Ever.” 

Daichi laughed, pressing his face into Asahi’s neck; “I have so many questions… namely, are we thinking about the same Oikawa?” 

“Former captain of Seijoh, yes. Iwaizumi and I sort of became irregular sparring partners at the boxing gym, and where Iwaizumi goes, Oikawa goes. They’re dating.”

“I gathered,” Daichi said. “So you’re friends with Oikawa and Iwaizumi these days? Abandoning your principles, or just a traitor?” 

“I am not a traitor! Don’t be ridiculous, Daichi.”

“ _ Et tu, Brute? _ ” 

Asahi bristled like a cat pet backwards; “OK, I can’t tell if you’re insulting me or using your literature major against me, but either way, I’m spitting in your coffee.”

Daichi’s offended gasp was a touch over the top, but Asahi’s blank expression was worth it; “You wouldn’t! You are bound by the rules of the Geneva Convention just like the rest of us!” 

A soft  _ whump _ muffled Daichi’s shrieks of indignation when Asahi beaned him with a pillow; “Spitting in your coffee isn’t a war crime, and I  _ was _ teasing, but now--” 

“Oh, that’s it!” Daichi clambered over the sheets, straddling Asahi’s waist and pinning him with his thighs, before tickling the hell out of his sides. Daichi knew Asahi’s sensitive spots--in the fun way and the less fun way--and he was more than willing to exploit those weaknesses. 

The fact that he was totally weak for Asahi’s bright, open, uninhibited laughing face? Well, it was certainly a nice bonus. But it was mostly revenge. 

“Ok!” Asahi cried, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. “I give! Uncle, uncle!” 

Daichi stopped, smirking down at Asahi while he desperately tried to catch his breath; “Hmm, not super into the ‘uncle’ thing. Could be your Daddy if you wanted me to, though.” 

Asahi rolled his eyes, but he was such a full-body blusher, and the tell-tale rosiness spreading across his chest had nothing to do with exertion; “Sorry, I keep my Daddy issues firmly out of my kink zone. Thanks, though.” 

“We’ll come back to it,” Daichi said with a teasing tilt to his head. 

Asahi  _ laughed _ . He laughed so hard, he nearly dislodged Daichi. His face lit up like the morning sun for which he was named and filled the room with warmth and happiness, banishing the years of heartbreak and sadness, replacing it with a soft affection that made Daichi realize something he’d been missing. Something he wanted. 

He was  _ home _ . He was happy and loved and accepted, and Asahi made him feel that way. They could be anywhere in the world, and Daichi would always feel that way. So long as Asahi was with him. 

Daichi swept down on Asahi and kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him. It wasn’t like their other kisses, which were full of desire and hot tension and sadness and the years between them. They kissed like a new beginning. Sweet, warm contentment settled in Daichi’s chest, filling him to bursting as Asahi wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. They forgot about everything outside that bedroom. Outside their little nest of pillows and sunshine. It was only  _ this _ , and this was perfect. 

“We should get out of bed,” Asahi said, his voice a low rumble in his chest. 

“Ugh, why?” Daichi buried his face in Asahi’s neck, pressing against him and tangling their legs together. They touched from their chests to their ankles, and despite the uncomfortable warmth, Daichi had never felt so loved and cherished. 

“Work. Life. My mom is being discharged in a few hours.” Asahi held Daichi a little tighter at the mention of his mother. 

Daichi, on the other hand, felt a little cold; “You haven’t mentioned how she’s doing.” 

Asahi heaved a huge sigh and ran his free hand through his hair. He stared, unseeing, at the bland ceiling, but didn’t let go of Daichi; “I didn’t want to. I don’t… I don’t want to admit it to myself. I don’t really want to talk about it. Not now. Not here. Not with you.”

“I respect that,” Daichi said with a nod, steering the conversation away from painful parts. “Why don’t you make us some coffee with that fancy espresso machine, and I’ll make you breakfast. Hopefully something other than those protein bars you  _ know _ I spotted.” 

Asahi stiffened, rubbing at his cheek like a caught child; “I… would like that. A lot.” 

~~~

Daichi headed home in a daze. The outside world didn’t feel real yet. He still smelled Asahi’s soap from his shower that morning. Despite the absurdly strong (if delicious) espresso drink Asahi had prepared for him, Daichi still felt like he needed something to wake him up, because surely he was still dreaming. If he didn’t fear public humiliation and broken ankles, he’d have danced down the road like a goddamn Disney Princess and he didn’t care who knew it. The ridiculously goofy smile on his face (and the slight hitch in his step) told every single passer by exactly what he got up to the night before. 

He didn’t mind. Let the world know that he, Sawamura Daichi, got laid by the love of his life last night!

The thought stopped him in his tracks--the love of his life. Asahi was the love of his life. Was he? Daichi was only 25. He and Asahi had known each other since they were 15. Was this something Daichi wanted? Was he really entertaining the idea of being with Asahi--like, really being with him--despite all the baggage, the issues, the wounds… 

_ Yes _ . 

The answer came so easily, he knew it had to be true. 

He thought about calling Suga, but it was the middle of the night over there and Suga wouldn’t appreciate being woken from a dead sleep (or, knowing him, in the middle of his work) to listen to Daichi gush about whether to have gerbera daisies or lilies at his wedding. He decided to hold off until a semi-reasonable hour and get some coffee instead. And maybe a pastry. He was celebrating--he earned it. 

He ducked into a favorite cafe. Normally, he avoided it on Sundays because the happy couples on Sunday dates made him feel a bit like he was being punched in the stomach over and over, which didn’t hold as much appeal when Suga wasn’t the one doing it. But that day, he was dancing on Cloud Nine and no one could bring him down. He looked around for a seat when he heard a familiar voice. 

“Sawamura-kun? Is that you?” 

If it hadn’t been for the lilting drawl to his voice and the absolutely  _ ridiculous _ hair, Daichi might never have recognized him; “Kuroo? Wow, you’ve… you’ve changed.” 

He  _ had  _ changed. He’d filled out through the shoulders and waist so he looked less like a string bean; his jaw was thicker, more masculine, and dotted with days-old stubble. His cat-like golden eyes were still sharp as ever behind thick glasses. He looked good. Once upon a time, Daichi harbored a tiny crush on his rival captain. If not for his epiphany mere moments before, that crush would have come back with a vengeance. 

Kuroo laughed; “And you haven’t changed a bit. Well, except…” Kuroo patted his belly, where Daichi was visibly softer these days. 

Daichi pouted, sucking his stomach in on instinct; “Well, it was nice seeing you, but after that, go to hell.” 

“Ah, you know I’m a joker, Sawamura,” Kuroo said, standing to offer Daichi a firm handshake. Daichi noted the glittering, gold band on his finger. “Besides, I have no room to talk in that department. Turns out the only thing standing between me and full-blown Dad Bod was a 17-year-old metabolism.” 

“I can relate. So what brings you to Miyagi? You were always a Tokyo kid at heart.”

“Still am,” Kuroo said. “Have a seat. Let me buy you a coffee and we can catch up.” 

“I’ll never turn down free coffee. Throw in a pastry and you have a deal.” 

“A pastry, Sawamura-kun? Really. We aren’t 17 anymore, you know!” Kuroo smirked, and between that and his dumbass comments, it earned him a sharp kick under the table. 

He and Kuroo caught up over coffee and a shared pastry. Daichi talked a bit about his work and the current manuscript he was editing. Kuroo chatted a bit about his work--assistant professor at Todai, working towards his doctorate to be a full blown professor. Daichi said a silent prayer for his current and future students. 

“So if you’re at Todai, what brings you to Miyagi,” Daichi asked again, after their coffee and pastry had been reduced to brown stains and crumbs. 

“I did a guest lecture at Sendai University, and Kou decided to hang in town with the rest of the National Team. Turns out they’re having a little get together this week, and Kou didn’t want to miss out. So many of them are from this area.” 

Daichi tilted his head in confusion; “Kou?” 

“Bokuto Koutarou,” Kuroo said, indicating his wedding band. “My husband.” 

“Husband!?” Daichi couldn’t quiet keep the surprise out of his voice, earning a disapproving glare over the rim of Kuroo’s glasses. Daichi fought the instinct to bow deeply, apologize formally, and stand in the hallway. “Sorry, just… you always seemed like such a lady killer. Not exactly the marriage-minded type.”

Kuroo snorted; “Please… the only ladies I killed in my day died of laughter at my awkward ass. I could never figure out how the whole… wooing girls thing went. Kou and I… we made sense. We… we fit, you know?” 

Daichi thought of the way Asahi held him, Asahi’s hand in his, Asahi’s lips over his, the way it was so, so easy to tell Asahi how much he loved him; “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” 

“Oh, you know, hm?” Kuroo gave Daichi a knowing look but, blessedly, didn’t say anything. “Anyway, Kou and I are in town for another few days. You should join us for drinks on Friday. If you can pull yourself away from your desk long enough,  _ salaryman _ .” 

“Worst superhero name ever,” Daichi snarked. “But yeah. It sounds like fun. I’d love to catch up.”

“Perfect. Let’s exchange numbers and I’ll text the details,” Kuroo said, pulling out his phone with a sly smirk on his face. “Oh, and Oikawa-san already invited Azumane, so don’t worry about him.”


	10. Chapter 10

Asahi stared forlornly at his room, regarding the pile of closet-vomit with a good level of derision. He’d pulled and soundly rejected every article of clothing he owned, and unless he wanted to wear an old gym t-shirt and pajama pants to the bar, he would have to choose something. He felt like a teenager again, and not in a fun way--his palms were sweaty, he was sick with anxiety about what he would wear and what he would say, and a tiny prickle of arousal at the base of his spine added a red-hot layer to everything building up inside of him. 

God, Daichi was so good. He  _ looked _ good--Asahi had always been weak for the touch of softness around Daichi’s middle and thighs, and it was only more pronounced now--and combined with how he’d  _ filled out _ … He was so square, so handsome, so ridiculously  _ masculine.  _ It wasn’t fair. It was like he’d been created by some sadistic Greek deity specifically to torture Asahi. Every fantasy about what Daichi could become, what he would grow into, and what he’d be like as an adult had come to fruition, and Asahi was… very weak. 

That left him fussing over what he would wear on his date (it wasn’t even like it was their  _ first _ date) like a high-maintenance teenage girl. He couldn’t even ask his mom for advice; she was in the hospital for the weekend, per the home nurse’s recommendation, and that layer of stress was only making Asahi feel even _ more _ on edge. He tried to forget about it--push it to the back of his mind and not think about it, or about how guilty he was feeling for going out with friends, when it felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

He’d finally narrowed his choice of shirts down to 22 when his alarm went off. A shot of panic rushed through him as he realized  _ he was going to be late. _ He grabbed the first thing he put hands on out of his ‘maybe’ pile--a dark red henley--and threw it on. He quickly tugged his sun necklace over his head and jammed his silver ring on his thumb before lacing up his boots and shrugging into his leather jacket. 

He looked a bit like a thug. He shrugged; it would have to do. 

The bar where he was meeting everyone was only two stops away from his apartment, but it was still a long enough train ride to start overthinking things. He knew it was just a casual night with friends, but in a way it was more than that. At least, that’s how  _ he  _ thought of it. As shitty as his situation was, he knew he wouldn’t be stuck there forever. Either his mom would recover, or… 

He shook himself. He didn’t want to think about that. 

But regardless of how it all ended, someday he would have a future again. Someday, there would be a light at the end of this long tunnel he’d been trudging down, and he would have choices to make. He wanted...he hoped Daichi would be a part of that future. Given how the last sleepover went, he assumed Daichi wanted it, too. However, that mean little voice that always popped up whenever he got optimistic about something had to smack him down from his lofty heights. It reminded him that he still had so much to apologize for, so much to make up for, so much for Daichi to forgive… 

Was he even worthy of that level of forgiveness?

The bar they’d chosen was a less popular place tucked between two bigger draws in Shimokitazawa. Alyx had actually found it using her uncanny ability to always find cool, inexpensive places with good beer. It wasn’t a large place, but it sounded like there was a party going on inside. Asahi waved to the bartender when he came inside, already spotting his group at the massive table in the back. 

Noya was regaling them with a story from an international training camp in Brazil. He used more gestures and sound effects than actual words, but he got his meaning across judging by the raucous laughter around the table. Bokuto and Oikawa were both interjecting their own additions to the tale, while Kuroo and Iwaizumi looked on with rapt attention. Tanaka was probably laughing the loudest, followed by Alyx. Both of them had several empty glasses in front of them, which meant they had already gotten started. 

Daichi was the first to spot him. He looked so good, with his simple button down and dark jeans. There was a faint flush on his cheeks, and his smile was just a bit wobbly. Asahi’s heart skipped a beat.

“Hey, you,” Daichi said, rising from the table to greet him. He drew Asahi into a tight hug, and Asahi couldn’t stop himself from burying his face into Daichi’s neck, despite the drunken wolf whistles from their table. “Sorry we got started without you. Alyx said I couldn’t hold my beer like her, and you know me. I had to defend my honor.”

“You’re so competitive, Daichi,” Asahi said, rolling his eyes. “I swear, you’re like a teenager.” 

“Only when it comes to drinking competitions and my sex drive!” 

“Too much information, Dai-chan!” Oikawa shouted from the table, gesturing with his empty daiquiri glass. “But seriously, it was nice of you to join us,  _ Asa-chan! _ You’re late!”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, gently nudging Oikawa in the ribs; “Don’t mind him. He’s drunk already.” 

Oikawa gasped, offended, with a hand pressed over his heart; “Iwa-chan! I am  _ offense! _ I have had one drink!” 

“That you sucked through a straw like your life depended on it,” Iwaizumi said. “And it’s ‘offended,’ not ‘offense,’ you lush.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes; “I know what I said. But you are right… that thing may have been about 40% sugar, but the rest was pure liquor. I looked about as queer as I am drinking it, but damn it if it doesn’t get the job done.” 

“Noya was just telling us about the time Ushijima broke his fingers,” Daichi said with a laugh. 

“He said it was an accident, and if he wasn’t so honest, I’d swear he did it on purpose out of sheer spite,” Noya pouted. 

“Ushiwaka-chan doesn’t experience spite,” Oikawa supplied. “He’s like a play-motivated dog. Which is a step up from robot, I suppose.” 

“Aw, he’s not so bad, once you get to know him,” Bokuto said. “I think he’s pretty funny, actually. Sweet guy. Cute wife.”

“You speak his language, Boku-chan,” Oikawa countered. 

“Ah, yes, the language of The Ace,” Kuroo said dramatically. “Where is our favorite Cow Man, anyway?” 

“He’s spending the weekend at home with his wife,” Oikawa said with a shiver. “I am going to pretend they are spending all that time reading in a dimly lit room like a pair of grandparents. I am also going to pretend the sex scratches he’s going to come back with are  _ definitely _ not sex scratches.” 

Oikawa was clearly about to go into one of his Ushijima-related rants--he’d never fully gotten over his tendency to compete with Ushijima at every turn, according to Iwaizumi--but he was thankfully interrupted by the waitress.

“Azumane-san,” she said with a bright grin. “Good to see you. The usual?” 

“Yes, thanks, Naomi,” Asahi replied. “Do you know when Satou-san is going to be in? I should finalize everything before I finish his commission.” 

“I’ll tell him to call you,” Naomi said. “Currently, he’s off sampling some twee little operation’s craft beer in Chiba, so who knows when he’s coming back. But I’ll be back with your beer.” 

Daichi turned to Asahi with a raised brow; “Commission?” 

Asahi gestured at the intricate, scrolling vine around the edge of the bar; “Yeah, I did that one when he opened the bar. The garden trellis you saw at my studio is going over by the wine shelves.” 

Oikawa gasped; “You saw the studio, Dai-chan? I’m offended, Asa-chan! You said no one was allowed in the studio!” 

“Sawamura is special, Tooru,” Iwaizumi said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, which drew raucous hoots and hollers from everyone at the table. 

“On that note!” Daichi exclaimed, his face flushing bright red. “How… um… are you all friends with Asahi, or is this all a massive coincidence?” 

Oikawa raised his hand like an enthusiastic kindergartener; “I’m friends with Asa-chan! We’ve been friends for, oh… three years?” He looked to Iwaizumi for confirmation. 

Iwaizumi shrugged; “Give or take. I met him at the boxing gym. Azumane has a mean right hook.” 

Asahi rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly; “Sorry about the black eye last week.” 

Iwaizumi waved him off; “No worries. I just blamed Oikawa and called it a day.” 

“Iwa-chan, I would  _ never! _ ” Oikawa exclaimed. “Now all our friends think I’m  _ abusing _ you!” 

Iwaizumi snorted; “Please. Literally no one believed me. Especially people who know you.” 

Oikawa narrowed his eyes; “I feel like I should be offended by that statement, and I couldn’t tell you why.” 

Kuroo burst into ridiculous, ugly laughter; “Have some water, Oikawa-kun. It’s too early for you to lose yourself like this. Azumane hasn’t even had one yet.” 

“Yeah, Asahi-san! We need to get you caught up!” Noya shouted. “Ryuu! You thinking what I’m thinking?” 

Asahi didn’t like the conspiratorial look Tanaka and Noya shared. He  _ really _ didn’t like when Noya leaned over to whisper in Bokuto’s ear. He really  _ really _ didn’t like the evil giggles he heard when they scurried over to the bar. 

“Should we be nervous?” Daichi asked. 

Alyx shrugged; “Considering I spy a goddamn party platter of shot glasses, my guess is ‘probably.’ Although, I’m frankly offended that they didn’t include me in their mischief.” 

Kuroo patted Alyx on top of her bright green hair, earning him a backhanded swat; “You’re just too good at mischief, Alyx-chan. Let someone else cause general mayhem for once.” 

Asahi resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands; “Daichi, I think I owe you a preemptive apology.” 

Daichi laughed; “You mean you didn’t see this coming?”

“You know the worst part?” Asahi asked. “I actually did.” 

~~~

They decided to retire to Daichi’s place, considering it was closer. That was the excuse they used. In truth, it was because Asahi didn’t want to go back to his own place that night. It was too much. That apartment, with its chemo-smell and various ephemera of sickness and death… it was wearing on him. 

He may have had his head above water, but everything was wearing on him. He treasured nights like that night, when he could just cut loose with his friends. He enjoyed watching Kuroo play a game of keep-away with Bokuto and a Sharpie in an attempt to thwart him from drawing on his stomach. He liked listening to Oikawa shriek about his pop star cousin and do a barely-coherent “sexy” dance in the booth. But once last call was called and they all stumbled off their separate ways, Asahi was stuck facing the reality of his crap life. 

He felt guilty for feeling so resentful. He was a good son. He wanted to take care of his mom. But everything was just  _ so much _ , and he wished he didn’t have to have the excuse of drinking with friends in order to just be a carefree 25-year-old. Not that he could really get drunk. Damn metabolism. 

“Asahi.” Daichi’s warm, soothing voice drew him out of his downward spiral, running down his spine like something warm and comforting. He shivered at the heat in the growl, seeking Daichi’s touch on instinct. “I can hear you thinking from over here.” 

“Sorry. Just…” he squeezed Daichi’s hand, letting those thick, square fingers slot with his own. “Thinking.” 

“I can see that. What about?” The kiss pressed to the back of Asahi’s knuckles was blisteringly hot, and just wet enough to be suggestive. 

Asahi didn’t fight the aroused shudder that wracked his frame at the gentle touch of Daichi’s tongue; “Everything… it’s all so much, and I can’t drink enough to let go, and--” 

“Hey. I’m going to stop you right there.” Daichi stepped in front of him, taking both of his hands in his. Bathed in the blue light of the streetlamp, Asahi felt a bit like he was in the most dreamlike wedding ceremony he could imagine, and if not for the heat passing between them, he could have cried. “Asahi, look at me… just be with me tonight. Just you and me and nothing else, ok? Let everything go for tonight and… just be with me.” 

“I… I don’t…” Asahi swallowed hard. He was distracted by the circles Daichi kept drawing with his thumbs against his knuckles. “I don’t know how. I can’t stop thinking about… everything. I wish I could just turn my brain off and be here with you, but--”

Daichi cut him off with a rough, wet, heated kiss. They’d only kissed a handful of times since their reunion, and yet, Daichi seemed to know the exact places to touch that turned Asahi into goo. The tip of his tongue brushed along the ridges on the roof of Asahi’s mouth, just behind his teeth; he gently pulled Asahi’s tongue between his teeth, sucking suggestively on the tip, before biting against his lower lip harsh enough to sting, but not enough to draw blood. Heat flooded Asahi’s body, turning his knees to jelly, and the only thing that rattled in his skull was the notion that he so very badly wanted to go to his knees for Daichi. 

“Then let me do it for you,” Daichi growled, his voice a low growl that settled somewhere below Asahi’s belly button. 

They got back to Daichi’s warm little apartment in a haze of touch and anticipation. Asahi tried to focus only on the brand-hot touch of Daichi’s hand at the small of his back, the wet press of his lips, the bite of cool air as his clothes were peeled off of him. 

“God, fuck, how are you so gorgeous?” If not for the overt fondness in Daichi’s voice, Asahi would have taken that as a threat. “I sort of want to destroy you…” 

“Daichi…” Asahi’s voice had gone high and embarrassingly breathy, but the shame eased at the arousal in Daichi’s growl. “Daichi, please…” 

“You’re still too with it,” Daichi snarled, seizing Asahi’s ponytail in an unforgiving fist. “I want you begging for it.” 

Without warning, Daichi issued a harsh tug on Asahi’s hair, and totally against his will, Asahi  _ screamed _ . Maybe it wasn’t a full on scream, but it was an audible cry of ecstasy, and pleasure burned through his body as his legs went weak with arousal. The harsh light in Daichi’s eyes made him shiver, and all Asahi wanted to do was to please him… 

“On your knees,” Daichi commanded, his zipper almost cacophonous in the silent room. “You’re going to suck my cock.”

“Daichi…” Asahi fell to his knees as if on reflex, leaning into Daichi’s grip on his hair. He could feel his eyes trying to flutter closed, and he had to brace himself with his hands against Daichi’s thighs just to keep upright…

Daichi jerked Asahi’s hair roughly; “Look at me… and no touching. Hands behind your back.” 

“But--” 

“Do it.” Daichi pulled Asahi’s hair harder, wrenching his neck back until the muscles strained. “You don’t get to be in control tonight, Asahi. I am. Now open your goddamn mouth.” 

Asahi shivered under the onslaught of sensation; honestly, this new, dominant side of Daichi probably should have scared him. Sent him running. At least had him asking to stop. But the genuine concern in his eyes--the way he cradled Asahi’s jaw with a gentle thumb on the swell of his lip--made everything ok. Daichi cared. He cared about Asahi’s well-being, and Asahi trusted him. 

He just wish he’d always trusted him.

Daichi pressed his cock past Asahi’s lips, and he tried to let his brain go soft as he accepted that magnificent girth with… well, not exactly ease. Maybe enthusiasm. It was messy, and noisy. Asahi may or may not have choked a bit as it pressed  _ just _ past the point of discomfort. But this was his dream. This was what he always wanted… what he’d given up. 

Maybe he should have told Daichi right away when he found out about his mom. Maybe he shouldn’t have listened to that pinprick of pride--colored heavily with self-doubt and anxiety--that told him that telling Daichi was a bad idea. He definitely shouldn’t have begged the few friends that found out  _ not _ to tell Daichi. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to any of them, to keep this monumental secret. It wasn’t fair to Asahi to just take on the burden of a sick parent and refuse to accept help. It wasn’t fair to Daichi to assume the worst of him… 

The careful way Daichi was watching him, testing his limits, keeping things fun and light while also breath-takingly arousing, was proof enough that he _ did _ care. He knew everything. All the stupid things Asahi had pulled, and all that he went through and all his burdens… and yet, there he was. Still with Asahi. Still trying desperately to get Asahi to let go. 

“Hey…” Daichi pulled out gently, a strand of spit connecting the wet head of his cock to Asahi’s swollen lips. “I can hear you thinking from up here. What do you need, beautiful?” 

_ Beautiful _ … 

Asahi shivered, everything going a little fuzzy around the edges; “M-more of that…” 

“Oh?” Daichi’s face changed. His eyes went  _ hot _ , his pupils swallowing that warm, chocolatey brown that Asahi had always associated with him. Had spent nights dreaming about. His kind smile was borderline feral. “Is that so? You want to be praised, gorgeous? Be told how perfect you look?” 

Asahi’s moan was totally involuntary, and he didn’t care. He could feel his cock surge with blood as his heart raced in his chest. Heat prickled along his core. It would have been perfect… if his knees didn’t hurt. Daichi had hardwood floors, and they weren’t 17 anymore. 

“Dai…” 

“Ssh…” Daichi ran a hand through his hair, gentle and soft. With the barest pressure, he forced Asahi to look him in the eye. Something there must have told him that Asahi was  _ trying _ … he was trying so hard to please. To let go. To just be there and present.  _ Why? _ Why was it so  _ hard? _ “Easy, Asahi. I got you. Let’s go to the bedroom, yeah?” 

He wasn’t sure how they got to the bedroom, nor how Daichi got his clothes off so fluidly. With one, easy pull of his hair tie, Asahi’s hair tumbled around his shoulders, falling around his face in soft waves. The reverent look on Daichi’s face made everything shoot straight to Asahi’s groin.. 

_ Call me beautiful again… _

“Wow, Asahi…” Daichi ran his hands through Asahi’s hair, lingering over his scalp. “Just… wow. You’re so… wow.” 

Asahi shivered, leaning into the gentle touch; “Daichi,  _ please _ …” 

“Easy, gorgeous. I said I got you.” He kept up the rhythmic stroking in Asahi’s hair, turning his brain into mush. “What do you need?” 

“I don’t know…” 

“Easy,” Daichi ordered again. “I have… an idea. You OK if I try something? Should help you let go a bit…” 

It was probably the worst idea ever concocted, and even kink-stupid Asahi knew this was probably not the way to go about it. He didn’t care. The pull of Daichi’s belt around his wrists, keeping his arms crossed behind his back, as he carefully balanced over Daichi’s lap was too much. Almost  _ too _ arousing. His cock hung miserably hard and untouched too far from Daichi’s leg to properly rut. Thankfully, the surge of panic from not being able to see Daichi was mitigated by the warm hand between his shoulder blades, the comforting scent of Daichi’s cologne and soap and sweat surrounding him, seeping into every surface, the rough sound of Daichi’s breathing… 

The world seemed to stop spinning for one perfect, breathless moment. Asahi was trussed up, over Daichi’s knees as natural as breathing. There was silence and stillness for the first time in so, so long… 

And then  _ smack _ ! Daichi’s hand came down on the swell of Asahi’s ass in a firm, harsh spank. It didn’t hurt per se--Daichi was building him up slowly--but it surprised him enough to pull out a shocked little ‘ _ ah’ _ of pleasure. 

Asahi didn’t expect to like it so much. The pain quickly faded to warmth over his skin, settling behind his pubic bone as pleasure and pressure. And then Daichi did it again. And again.  _ And again _ . Each time a little harder than the last. He changed up where and how he was hitting, alternating cheeks and location, sometimes sneaking down to the backs of Asahi’s thighs. Some strikes were gentle, just a tease. Others were so intense that he inherently knew--somewhere, in his slowly-melting brain--that he would have deep-muscle aches in the morning. Sitting would likely be uncomfortable for a few days… 

He didn’t care. 

He was losing his ability to care. 

Over and over, Daichi spanked him. Something he never considered liking in the past. But something about the juxtaposition of the pain and the tenderness of Daichi’s hands on him and the masculine grunts of arousal and exertion as he was struck over and over… Asahi felt a bit like he was in a warm bath, completely submerged with water in his ears. Everything was hazy and perfect. 

Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing outside the bedroom. Nothing outside the painful ache between his legs. 

He  _ needed _ to be touched. He’d die if he wasn’t touched. He may or may not have said something to that effect, but he could barely recognize his own voice. The only thing running through his head was a constant stream of begging and pleading:  _ touch me touch me touch me…  _

Without warning, Daichi rolled him onto his back, lifting his legs until his knees were near pressed into his shoulders. The hunger in his eyes was overt. He wanted Asahi. Badly. 

“I’m going to fuck you.” It wasn’t a request so much as a  _ demand _ . Like it was just a matter of fact. And Daichi’s already low voice had practically transformed into a growl, and Asahi couldn’t handle it anymore. 

_ “Please! _ ” 

Asahi was lost in sparkling, electric pleasure. He couldn’t keep his body still, writhing and moaning under Daichi as he was slowly--almost too slowly--fingered open. Almost entirely against his will, he found himself bearing down on Daichi’s hands as he  _ deliberately _ avoided Asahi’s prostate… he growled out of frustration.

“Daichi…” His voice was higher than he was used to hearing. High and whiny and needy. “Daichi, please… please it’s not… I need…”

“Ssh…” Daichi pulled out, leaving Asahi painfully empty and clenching on nothing. “Be patient, beautiful…” 

Asahi moaned at the praise, lifting his hips higher. It was too much. Waiting for Daichi was too much. He couldn’t be patient… he’d lost all ability to be patient. He was overcome with the thought that if Daichi didn’t fuck him  _ immediately _ , he’d die. 

Thankfully, Daichi seemed to have lost all his patience, because without warning, he pried Asahi’s thighs apart and thrust into him with a single firm roll of his hips. Asahi  _ screamed _ . At least, he thought he might have. He wasn’t sure. The pleasure and pain had already started to combine in his brain, and now he was nothing but pure sensation. He felt light. Floaty. Disembodied from his own skin. 

Simultaneously, he felt like he could melt into the sheets and float above his own body, experiencing nothing but the unbearable  _ fullness _ of Daichi’s cock inside of him. The pace was brutal, and even totally untouched, Asahi felt like he might come undone. The pressure under his skin continued to build and build. He lost control of his voice. Of his own body. Maybe his hands had pins and needles running to the fingertips because of the belt or his body weight on them, or maybe it was just his entire blood supply rushing to his own cock. He couldn’t see it through the golden haze in his brain (or through the blur of tears in his eyes) but he knew it had to be dark and heavy and rock hard as it slapped against his stomach. 

“Touch me…” His voice was a broken rasp. He sounded so  _ needy _ , even to his own ears. He didn’t care. “Touch me… please, Daichi, I’m so close. Please…”

Daichi’s laugh was an instantly addictive sound, given how he panted with exertion and growled with arousal; “I can’t say no to that…” 

He wrapped his big, warm hands around Asahi’s cock and that was it. He was gone. All the pleasure and electricity and light that had been building under his skin shrank to a small pinpoint before exploding outward. His body clenched, his muscles cramped with anticipation, and then he came harder than ever before. Waves of overstimulation coursed through his veins as Daichi continued to fuck him through it. 

Asahi didn’t hear Daichi come on a masculine grunt, nor did he feel the unbearable warmth of being filled. He was completely wrung out, incapable of feeling anything other than the rush of affection when Daichi gently cradled his face in his hands. He might have said something. He might have untied Asahi at some point, rolled him onto his front to gently massage the kink that had developed in his shoulder. Gave him water and stroked his hair and cleaned him up… but he wouldn’t be able to recall that. 

All that mattered was that he was surrounded by Daichi’s scent and warmth and love and his voice was permeating the fog in his brain, and he was happy. Content. He curled around Daichi’s pillow as he slowly came back to himself. Even as he heard the groan of the pipes, he couldn’t bear to open his eyes. 

That might shatter the beautiful, blissful  _ nothingness _ Daichi had worked so hard to create.

***

The next time Asahi opened his eyes, Daichi was coming in the room, a towel low on his hips and his hair damp. 

“You left me here to perish in my own fluids and you showered  _ without me? _ ” Asahi teased in mock offense. “You are the worst boyfriend ever.” 

“Says the guy who got his fucking come all over my sheets,” Daichi retorted, whipping in Asahi’s direction with his damp towel. 

Asahi would have complained about getting towel whipped like they were 15 again. He really would have. Except Daichi’s ass was two perfectly sculpted scoops of butter pecan ice cream, and he sort of lost all mental function when Daichi bent over to retrieve a pair of boxers from his dresser. 

“Enjoying the view?” Daichi struck a pose, somehow managing to thrust his ass and chest out at the same time. 

To save his poor spine, Asahi shrugged; “Yeah, what of it?” 

Daichi was totally caught off guard by the praise, if the full-body blush working it’s way over his chest was to be believed; “You’re awful. How can you just… say things like that?” 

Asahi grinned, a little bloom of affection blossoming in his chest, warming him from his core out to the tips of his fingers and toes. He reached for Daichi, encouraging him to step into the circle of his arms. His skin was so, so warm, and smooth compared to Asahi’s burn scars and calluses. He shivered deliciously when Asahi trailed a fingertip through his treasure trail, wiggling with the ticklish sensation. 

“Because I love you,” Asahi answered simply, staring up at Daichi with wide, honest eyes. 

“S-stop,” Daichi grumbled, shoving at Asahi’s face. “You’re embarrassing.” 

Asahi made room on the bed, and Daichi curled up next to him, burrowed into the crook of Asahi’s neck. As he drifted off, Asahi realized… he could get used to this. The gentle, casual affection, the touch, the holding and the heat and the soft breaths in the quiet of a shared bedroom… being surrounded by Daichi and his strong, masculine scent day in and day out… 

“So… you OK?” Daichi reached up to stroke Asahi’s cheek. “You kind of… went away on me there, for a minute.”

Asahi had to laugh; “Yeah, I’m good. You’re the one who said you didn’t want me to think.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know it would work  _ that _ well!” Daichi buried himself deeper into Asahi’s embrace. “I tried to take care of you after, but you were pretty out of it.” 

“I think I remember that…” Asahi rolled his shoulder a bit, marvelling at the dark bruise already forming on his wrists where the belt had pulled tight. “It’s OK, though… I’m here. And it was perfect. It felt good.” 

“Good… I just… I don’t know. You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry!” Daichi yanked on Asahi’s hair playfully, which almost started the whole process all over again. But to be honest, even with his ridiculous stamina, Asahi was  _ worn out _ . “You promise it was good?”

“I promise. Definitely something I could get used to.” 

Daichi’s warm, affectionate laugh was almost too much. It reminded Asahi of warm, salted caramel and chocolate and everything decadent and perfect. As he laid in Daichi’s arms, wrapped up and warm and cared for, it occurred to him that he could have had this all along. If his life hadn’t taken the turns it had, if he’d trusted Daichi more… this might have been his normal. This might have been his forever. It was such a beautiful dream… 

But like most dreams, it took only a gentle tap to shatter completely.

“Oh, I meant to tell you,” Daichi said, reaching for the nightstand. “You left your phone in the kitchen. It was going off when I got out of the shower.” 

Asahi froze, snatching the phone from Daichi’s fingers. He barely even registered the vaguely-hurt look on Daichi’s face from his abrupt actions. His lungs felt like they were made of concrete, and hot glue ran down his throat, closing up his airways. 

He had six missed calls. All of them were from the hospital. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mentions of death and parental death

Atsuko was gone. 

Daichi had never felt so helpless as when Asahi had received the news. His mother had taken a turn for the worse, and she was just… gone. Daichi didn’t know the details. After he’d asked about his mother at the desk and received the news, the attending oncologist whisked him away to an office in the back, leaving Daichi alone. 

He sat in the waiting room, watching his shitty hospital coffee grow cold on the table next to the stained magazines. He idly wondered why hospitals kept magazines in waiting rooms. Especially in the oncology department. That just seemed cruel. 

It was late. Too late for regular patients receiving regular treatments. Daichi was keenly aware that he was surrounded by death and dying, and he  _ knew _ . He  _ knew _ that in one of those cold, flavorless rooms behind a cold, flavorless door, Atsuko was lying on a bed. Dead. She was dead. Asahi was all alone, now. With a sick, anxious curl in his gut, he thought...

Would Asahi push him away again? 

He shivered. No. He couldn’t think like that. Asahi was feeling the most unbelievable pain anyone could feel. He thought about calling Suga. For once, it was the middle of Suga’s day. He wouldn’t wake him up. But he decided against it. He didn’t know who it was OK to tell. He figured Asahi would have to lead in that department. Still, he had to talk to someone. Sitting alone was only going to drive him crazy. So he called the one person he knew he  _ needed _ to talk to, praying she was up at this hour. 

“Daichi? Sweetheart, is everything ok?” 

Despite waking her in the middle of the night, Daichi’s mother sounded as wide awake and alert as always. Daichi tried to answer with his usual poise and strength, but he couldn’t. Hearing his mom, knowing she was alright and alive and breathing, broke something in him. 

So he cried. 

“Oh, Daichi, what’s the matter?” His mother knew him. She knew he didn’t cry. Not readily, anyway.

“Mom, I’m sorry to wake you,” he said, his voice wavering with the effort of keeping his composure. It wasn’t working. “I just… needed to hear your voice.” 

“Sweetheart, don’t worry about that,” she said firmly. “What happened? Tell me right now.” 

“Atsuko… er… Azumane-san,” Daichi answered, trying to take deep breaths around the tightness in his chest. “Asahi’s mom… she died.” 

His mother gasped, and he heard her say a quiet prayer before she answered him; “That’s terrible! Is Asahi-kun ok?” 

“I’m… not sure,” Daichi said. “I haven’t seen him since we got the news. He’s talking to the doctor now.” 

His mother didn’t ask him anything else. She knew him. She knew why he had to call her, talk to her, hear her voice… had to know she was OK. Even if they didn’t say anything to each other, he knew she was alive. She was breathing. It was so selfish, but he had to. And she didn’t judge him or reprimand him for it. 

“Sawamura-san?” A sweet-looking nurse approached him gently, a deep kindness in her eyes telling Daichi that she had absolutely done this before. Had seen this before. “I am so sorry to interrupt, but Azumane-san is asking for you in Niijima-sensei’s office. He said it was quite urgent.” 

“How is he?” Daichi asked, suddenly frantic.

“As well as can be expected,” the nurse replied. “You can see him if you come with me.” 

Daichi nodded, going back to his call; “Mom--”

“I heard,” she interrupted. “Send him our best wishes, and please give him a hug from me.” 

Daichi said goodbye to his mother before allowing the nurse to bring him into the office. The doctor wasn’t there anymore--apparently, Asahi couldn’t stand to look at him at the moment--which left Asahi alone. Despite his size, he looked so small curled in the chair like that, sad and broken, staring unseeing at a spot on the floor. 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” the nurse said with a kind smile. “Niijima-sensei will probably come back soon to discuss your options.” 

The door snapped closed, leaving behind a heavy silence that sat thick in Daichi’s chest. He wasn’t sure how he wanted to proceed, or how he should react. Asahi hadn’t looked at him. Still, he had to do  _ something _ . It was his nature. 

He put his hand between Asahi’s shoulder blades; “Asahi… I’m sorry.” 

Asahi jumped at the contact, his eyes wide and unnervingly dry; “Oh… Daichi. Um… wow, I’m glad you’re here. We have… wow, there’s so much to do. I have to call my relatives. And get in touch with the temple. And… oh, Dad would have wanted a Catholic ceremony, too. For Grandma and Grandpa. At least a small one. Oh, I should call out of work for the next few days… and the house should be cleaned. And… oh, the vigil! I should keep--” 

“Asahi,” Daichi interrupted gently. He fisted his hand into the back of Asahi’s shirt, feeling the rapid heartbeat beneath his hand pound even faster. “Breathe, love.”

The endearment rolled off his tongue so easily. So readily. And it froze Asahi in his tracks. He was visibly shaking, and Daichi resisted the urge to gather Asahi into his arms. When Daichi was grieving, he sought contact and closeness, but he wasn’t sure Asahi felt the same. He rubbed soothing circles into Asahi’s shaking shoulders, watching the facade crack and crumble in those shockingly vulnerable eyes.

“She’s… she’s gone, Daichi. She’s gone,” he whispered, his voice broken and raw. “I’m… I’m alone.” 

“Oh, Asahi,” Daichi said, gathering Asahi close. He leaned into the embrace, curling into Daichi’s chest and shaking with the effort of keeping himself together. “You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone… I know I can’t replace your parents, but… I’m here. I’ll always be here. As long as you want me to be. But if you need me to leave--” 

“ _ No!” _ Asahi’s eyes snapped up, wide and open and so, so vulnerable… it broke Daichi’s heart. “No, please. Don’t… don’t leave.” 

Daichi brushed Asahi’s hair back, trying to comfort and soothe the only way he knew how; “Try and make me. I’m here, Asahi.”

~~~

Suga and Tendou would be landing at Haneda by the end of the day. Asahi’s relatives would be up within the next day or so. Atsuko’s funeral was that weekend. Most of the big picture stuff was taken care of, but there were so many little details… Daichi was so overwhelmed, and he was barely helping. He couldn’t even imagine what Asahi was going through. 

Neither of them slept very much that first night. They didn’t talk either. They just… sat. Daichi wasn’t sure what Asahi was thinking about or remembering, lingering in his childhood home, now full of so many painful memories of the dead. He wondered if Asahi would even be able to stay in the apartment, or if he’d have to move just to stay sane. When the sun rose, Daichi tried to bring together a modest breakfast, but they didn’t have much. He vaguely remembered Asahi mentioning the need to go grocery shopping… 

He texted Alyx, somehow knowing she would know what to do. Despite the early hour and the pale blue sunlight, he got an immediate reply. 

**_Alyx:_ ** _ Give me two hours.  _

True to her word, she and Tanaka arrived within two hours, laden with dishes upon dishes of food. It all smelled so good, and Daichi only recognized about half of it. 

“It’s the best I could manage on short notice,” she said, unpacking containers. “Most of it is stuff we had laying around, but my cousin, Xander, is in the States at the moment. He’s overnighting the rest of my ingredients.” 

Daichi gawked--she and Tanaka had already brought over an entire goddamn buffet; “You’re making  _ more _ food? How much do we need?” 

“Lots,” she said simply, narrowing her eyes. “Daichi, if there’s one thing the Americans are good at, it’s eating our feelings. Besides, something tells me Asahi won’t be too keen on leaving the house for a few days.” 

Daichi shrugged, sampling a few unfamiliar dishes. He was a fan of the biscuits and gravy, but he wasn’t totally sold on the fried chicken. 

“How is he?” Tanaka asked, popping something Alyx had called a ‘hush puppy’ into his mouth. 

Daichi shrugged; “About as well as can be expected, I guess. He hasn’t said a word since we left the hospital.”

Tanaka raised his eyebrow; “Where is he now?” 

“He’s in Atsuko-san’s room. He’s picking out a picture,” Daichi replied, nodding towards the open bedroom door. “You know. For the wake.” 

“Should we leave him alone?” Alyx asked. 

“He said he wanted to be alone,” Daichi said, picking at his nails. “I think… I think I should just follow his lead. I don’t know how to handle this.” 

“Shit, neither do I,” Tanaka said, running his hands through his hair. The unstyled blue curls caught on his fingers, making him look more harried than he probably was. “We’re all sort of flying blind here.” 

“What can we do?” Alyx asked. “Put us to work, Daichi.” 

Daichi heaved a huge sigh; “First thing’s first… I guess we make a list.”

~~~

By the time he got a text from Suga saying they were in Tokyo and boarding the train to Sendai at that moment, he was so thankful for Alyx and Tanaka’s help. Asahi had to handle most of the big stuff, like speaking to the temple and arranging the wake. Daichi was a doer. A fixer. He thrived on action. Alyx and Tanaka were cut from the same cloth, and they attacked the to-do list with gusto. 

It was a long, exhausting, sweaty day. They barely saw Asahi, and when they did, he looked frighteningly haunted. Dark smears from two days without sleep bruised under his eyes, and he walked like the air itself weighed a ton. His color was absolutely awful. 

Daichi pushed food on him whenever he could get a minute, made him drink water instead of coffee, and made him stop once in a while. Asahi ate without tasting, drank without concern, and stared without seeing. Daichi tried to be as supportive as he could. He really did. 

Alyx got her ingredients, and suddenly the kitchen was filled with the sounds of sizzling, bubbling, broiling, and baking. It smelled like too much butter and sugar and salt and cheese and some sort of vinegary barbecue sauce that tasted like a sweet, sweet orgasm on his tongue. It was heavenly, and came with the added bonus of banishing the scent of sickness and death from the house. Alyx cooked like a woman possessed. It was all she could do. 

Some time in the middle of the night, Suga and Tendou trudged through the front door, laden with hastily-packed bags and an extremely-sleepy Ami. She clung to Tendou, clearly fighting sleep and losing. 

“How was your flight?” Daichi asked quietly. Asahi was passed out on the couch, snoring softly, and he didn’t want to wake him. 

“Long,” Suga answered. “But we made it. I’ll probably bring Ami to my mother’s house tomorrow, and then Sacchan and I will be all yours.” 

Daichi enfolded his friend in a huge, desperate hug. Suga returned with equal enthusiasm, wrapping deceptively-strong arms around Daichi’s middle; “You’re a lifesaver Suga. I don’t know what we’d do without you.” 

“I’m sure you’d manage,” Suga said, pulling back reluctantly. “But we’re happy to help in any way we can.” 

Tendou managed to give Daichi a one-armed hug around Ami; “How is he?” 

“Sleeping, finally,” Daichi said with a note of relief. “There’s still so much to do before this weekend. Asahi managed to arrange for a Mass on Sunday, too, so there’s that.” 

“And how are  _ you _ ?” Suga asked, fixing Daichi with a withering stare. 

Daichi shrugged; “I’m sad. I think. I’m too tired to articulate properly at the moment. I haven’t slept much either.” 

“You should sleep,” Suga said, cradling Daichi’s hand in his. “We should all sleep. Sacchan and I have been up for about 32 hours at this point, so we’re wiped.” 

“I laid the futons out for you guys,” Daichi said. 

“Alright, I’ll get Ami…” Tendou glanced around the kitchen. “Where’s Ami?” 

Suga’s eyes flicked up to the couch, his smile softening when he saw his daughter, as exhausted as all of them, curled into Asahi’s chest. They were both still fast asleep, Asahi’s arm curled protectively around her. It was probably her desire to comfort and soothe--that need all children had to just make the hurt stop--that had encouraged her to squish her tiny body in the small space next to Asahi. It was that pure action that made something bittersweet burn through Daichi like wildfire.

They were going to be OK. 

~~~

Daichi hated funerals. He hadn’t been to many, but he knew that he hated them. 

Asahi was all alone. Sure, he had relatives, but he was Jun and Atsuko’s only child, so he was largely responsible for a lot. Daichi would be forever grateful for Asahi’s friends--Iwaizumi, Oikawa, Kuroo, Bokuto, Noya, and even Ushijima all showed up in dark suits to show their support. Tendou, Suga, Tanaka, Alyx, and Daichi did all they could, but there was only so much. 

It was a long week, filled with tradition and condolences and poor Asahi reliving Atsuko’s last days over and over and over in his head. Daichi could see it in his eyes, and honestly, he didn’t know how to make it better. All he wanted was to make it better. 

After the Catholic Mass at a very small church and Atsuko’s cremation, everyone had to separate. They all had lives to return to, jobs to go to, families to care for. Honestly, Daichi should have gone home to catch up on the work he’d missed, helping prepare for the funeral, but he just couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, knowing he’d left Asahi alone in that empty apartment, filled with nothing but sadness and pain and the lingering smell of illness, when he looked so haunted. So lost. So broken. 

So he stayed. 

Asahi stepped out of his dress shoes, staring into the dark kitchen; “I’m home.” 

He paused, as if waiting for Atsuko to answer, ‘welcome home.’ But of course she didn’t, and the screaming silence settled on them like a shroud. Asahi sniffled wetly. Daichi didn’t know how to respond, so he followed Asahi into the apartment… into Atsuko’s room. 

Daichi had never been in Atsuko’s room before. Not even when Asahi would lock himself behind her door after she’d died. There was evidence of her illness everywhere, from the oxygen tank by the window to the line of labelled pill bottles on the dresser. But, when Daichi looked at the line of photos, the framed finger painting yellowed with age, the faded quilt made of baby clothes… in a way, it was a shrine to Atsuko’s life. The last vestiges of who she was before cancer and treatment took her somewhere else, turned her to a person Asahi didn’t recognize as his mother, were in that room. 

Daichi watched Asahi open her closet, running his fingers over the neatly-hung clothes. He wondered what Asahi was remembering. If it was a good memory. It was too quiet, but Daichi didn’t know how to break the silence. Didn’t want to break the silence. He grabbed the back of Asahi’s suit, clutching the jacket between cold, numb fingers. 

“I can’t stay here,” Asahi said, his voice a harsh whisper. 

Daichi put his arms around Asahi’s waist, sighing with relief when he didn’t shy away from the touch. He leaned into Daichi, sinking into his warmth and accepting his comfort. He’d always been so much bigger than Daichi, but in that moment, he seemed so small. He was a little boy who didn’t have parents anymore. Daichi didn’t know how that felt. Didn’t want to ever find out. 

So he offered the only tangible help he could; “You can stay with me. As long as you need to.” 

Asahi nodded mutely, shuffling back towards his bedroom. He left Atsuko’s room intact. Daichi figured it would stay that way for a while. While Asahi went to change out of his funeral suit, Daichi started packing Asahi’s essentials. He didn’t know if Asahi needed special clothes or equipment for work… if he was going to  _ go  _ to work. It didn't matter. Asahi could stay with him as long as he wanted. He could quit the ridiculous jobs that wore him to the bone, pursue his dreams… Daichi wanted that for Asahi. And he wanted to help make it happen. Together.

Asahi returned, wearing soft jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. His hair was loose, and his face was red and damp, like he’d splashed himself with cold water. He was picking at one of the harsh calluses on the inside of his finger. Daichi’s heart leapt when he saw his sun pendant hanging at the hollow of Asahi’s throat. 

“Asahi? Are you…” he bit his lip. He didn’t want to ask if Asahi was OK because  _ of course _ he wasn’t OK. But he had to check somehow. He couldn’t stand this awful silence anymore. “Asahi, talk to me. What do you need?” 

Asahi sighed deeply, staring at his hands; “I don’t… I don’t know.” 

“Do you… need to cry? Because you can,” Daichi said lamely. “If you need to cry, you can. I’ll be here and I won’t judge.” 

“I don’t want to cry anymore,” Asahi replied, his voice a little bitter. “I should be sadder. But I’m not. I’m relieved. Maybe a little lost, but I’m mostly just… glad it’s over.”

“That’s… I’m sure it’s normal,” Daichi said, folding and refolding a soft t-shirt over and over his hands. “You’re glad she’s not in pain anymore.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Asahi shrugged, staring at a spot on the wall. “At first… at first, all I wanted to do was take care of my mom. I wanted her to get better, and forget this whole thing ever happened. But I knew. I knew… shit, about a year ago. She wasn’t going to get better. She didn’t even recognize me anymore. She yelled all the damn time… she hit me once. Thought I broke in to rob her, or something. The chemo made her so weak I barely felt it, but… she wasn’t my mom anymore. She hasn’t been my mom in so long.”

“Asahi…” Daichi tried to speak around the lump in his throat, but he couldn’t. Dangerous tears stung at the corners of his eyes. 

“She took me away from you,” Asahi said, his voice choked with emotion. “I had to  _ leave you _ … I missed  _ everything _ . Everyone got to… got to grow up and leave and move on and I had to stay here. I worked so hard to keep her alive… I lived for her. She was all I had. And now she’s fucking _ gone _ , Daichi. Five  _ fucking _ years of my life for  _ nothing _ .” 

Asahi’s voice steadily rose with his tirade. Daichi dropped the hopelessly-twisted shirt in his hands and wrapped his arms around Asahi’s shaking shoulders. A horrible, gut-wrenching sob tore out of Asahi’s throat, and he practically screamed into Daichi’s shoulder. He cried. He cried until his knees gave out and Daichi had to carefully lower him to the floor. He cried until his voice was hoarse with it and his sweaty palms were shaking. He sniffled and shook and sobbed until he couldn’t breathe anymore and he was on the verge of hyperventilating. Daichi rubbed soothing circles between Asahi’s shoulders, feeling him relax into his body, even if he was still shaking. 

“It wasn’t for nothing,” Daichi said, surprised when he heard tears of his own. “She loved you. And you loved her. And you spent her final days making sure she was taken care of. She was comfortable and cared for and loved until the very, very end. And you did that. You did that for her, Asahi.” 

“What…” Asahi swallowed hard, not lifting his face from Daichi’s shoulder. Daichi ran is fingers through his hair, twisting the long tresses around his fingers in a way he hoped was comforting. “What am I going to do? I’m alone… This has been my life for so long. I don’t have anywhere to go.” 

Daichi grabbed Asahi’s cheeks, lifting his face to look him in the eye; “Stop that. You are  _ not _ alone. You are going to mourn your mother. You are going to pick up and move forward. You are going to follow your dreams and continue living. It’s what your mom would want for you. It’s what  _ I  _ want for you! And even without your mom, you have Tanaka and Alyx and Saeko-san and Ukai-san and Iwaizumi and Kuroo and Noya… you are so loved, Asahi. And everyone will be there for you.” 

“And you?” Asahi asked, a small note of panic in his eyes. “What about you?” 

Daichi sighed, gathering Asahi close again, shivering when those strong arms wrapped tight around his waist; “I figured I was a given, you big goof. I’ll always be here for you. I just got you back--you think I’m going to let you go now?” 

Asahi huffed a small, wet-sounding laugh. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to set Daichi at ease a little bit. He clung, trying to imprint himself on Asahi’s soul. Trying to communicate everything he was thinking without words. He pressed kiss after kiss against Asahi’s temple, feeling him relax into their embrace. 

“I love you, Daichi,” Asahi said, his voice a little softer. A little smoother. A little more Asahi. 

Daichi grinned; “I love you, too.” 

He didn’t know how long they held each other. They sat on Asahi’s floor until it was pitch dark and their knees protested and their stomachs rumbled with hunger. Asahi was the first to stand, flicking on his desk lamp and filling the room with light and warmth. His eyes were still red, but his shoulders were lighter. His burdens were eased. Daichi was probably imagining it, but he stood a little taller. He helped Daichi stand, clutching his hand like a lifeline. Then, together, they left for Daichi’s.

Together, they would move forward.


	12. Epilogue

_Two Years Later_

Daichi emerged from their bedroom-- _their bedroom!_ The idea sent a giddy thrill through his chest--and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Despite the heavy snow outside and the persistent winter chill, moving heavy furniture left him sticky and hot. Asahi, of course, was fussing with his art corner. 

“Really?” Daichi teased. “I’m setting up our bed _by myself_ , and you’re deciding the best placement for your easel?” 

Asahi made an affronted noise, his hand pressed to his chest in mock offense; “I don’t want to hear it, Mr. I-can’t-help-with-the-couch-until-my-books-are-alphabetized!” 

“Hey, those books are my work! They’re important,” Daichi said, poking Asahi in the ribs. “Besides, you and _Iwa-chan_ got the couch up here just fine on your own.”

“When Iwaizumi comes back with dinner, I’m telling him you called him ‘Iwa-chan,’” Asahi said, shoving at Daichi’s face. “And my easel _is_ my work. It’s part of my work! You aren’t allowed to pick on me.” 

“I will pick on you until we are doddering old geezers in rocking chairs,” Daichi retorted, slipping his arms around Asahi’s waist. 

Asahi leaned into the touch, tracing the glittering band on Daichi’s finger; “You promise?” 

Daichi buried his face between Asahi’s shoulders, taking in the smell of hot metal and paints that he’d come to associate with his fiance… his _fiance_ . He still couldn’t believe it. If someone had come to Daichi just three short years before, telling him what his life would look like when all was said and done, he’d have laughed in their face. He had the love of his life back. They were living together. _They were getting married._

After Atsuko had died, Asahi couldn’t stay in that apartment anymore. So with time, and lots of help and emotional support, he’d sold the place. He’d also sold most of her possessions, save for a few sentimental items he couldn’t bear to part with. He’d kept all her pictures. He quit his jobs, except Sakanoshita. Ukai’s baby came about six weeks after Atsuko passed, and the new parents desperately needed the help.

Now, Asahi was pursuing his art with gusto. They moved in together near Daichi’s work, settling down. Making names for themselves. Laughing over the emails Suga would send about his daughter and husband and the shenanigans they got into… imagining filling their own house with laughter and family and new memories. Good memories. 

The doorbell suddenly yanked them out of their gently-affectionate domesticity. As per usual, Suga didn’t even bother waiting for an answer before he just barged in. 

“You know, that key is supposed to be for emergencies!” Daichi called over the sudden chaos in the genkan. “What if I had been naked?”

“That’s what the doorbell is for!” Suga returned. “And don’t say ‘naked’ in front of the child!” 

Before he could even finish the sentence, the pitter patter of tiny feet echoed through the apartment as Ami tore into the living room; “Uncle Daichi! Asahi!” 

Of course, Asahi dropped everything he was working on to heft Ami into the air; “Ah! Hey squirt! Look at you, have you gotten taller?” 

“Otou-san said I outgrew my shoes,” she squealed, bouncing in Asahi’s arms. 

“Wow, that’s your third pair this year! You’re a big girl now,” Asahi declared, rubbing his nose against her cheek. “You know what that means?” 

“What!?” 

“You’re big enough to help us unpack! Can you be trusted with the coffee mugs? It’s a very big responsibility.” 

Asahi might as well have given her a pony, for all that she lit up; “Yes! I can do it!” 

“I knew you could handle it!” Asahi held up his hand for a high-five, which Ami returned with gusto. “Alright, squirt… sorry, I mean Ami-san. I’ll show you where things go.” 

Daichi must have had a totally goofy smile on his face, because Suga took his distraction as license to punch him in the ribs. Still, the smirk on his face was gentler than the violence might imply. 

“He looks good like that,” he said nonchalantly, shrugging like he was making conversation. Like he _wasn’t_ fishing in Asahi and Daichi’s personal business for clues as to their future plans. 

Daichi had to agree… watching Asahi hand Ami their prized coffee mugs with all the care and solemnity of a curator with priceless artifacts was something to behold. His smile was wider with her, and his gentleness was so evident in the way he held her tiny little hands in his. 

Still, it couldn’t hurt to let Suga sweat, so he just shrugged back and said, “Come on. There’s unpacking for you to help with. Put Tendou on drinks duty. Iwaizumi and Oikawa should be back with food soon."

“Wow, rude, Daichi. And here I was going to actually _help_ you, but now?” 

Laughter was coming more easily; it was a good day. Still, there were still some bad days. There were still scars and things to work through. Asahi and Daichi both still got haunted looks in their eyes when they looked at the shrine, where Asahi’s parents grinned at them from their wedding picture. There were still deep wounds that hadn’t healed from their long separation. 

Things weren’t perfect. But they were still good. Daichi was one step closer to starting his own family. And it all started in this apartment with the man he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for giving this one a go! I wrote it over the course of a couple years when I was feeling pretty down about my own dad's death and some family issues that this helped me work through. So while this is intensely personal, I'm glad I got to share it with you. 
> 
> Special thanks to Ariane, who kept me going through this whole process, Jade, an initial beta reader, and as always my best girl Hanna for always being my support despite having her own shit going on. And thanks to everyone in my Discord server for enabling me always 💙💙💙


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